


All I Want, aka O Christmas Trope

by Januarium



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (and a pinch of Hanukkah), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, High Patrick Brewer, Ice Skating, M/M, Mutual Pining, Never goes fully to the angst place but there are complex coming out feelings, POV Alternating, Patrick Brewer is Gay, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Practice Kissing, Queer Themes, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Sudoku, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Winter, bar trivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarium/pseuds/Januarium
Summary: “What if youdidhave a boyfriend?” Stevie makes it sound so reasonable and David does his best not to show the stab of jealousy deep in his gut at the words.“They’re coming in like, two weeks, Stevie. There’s no way I can meet a guy in that time, let alone get to a point of introducing him to my parents.” Patrick sounds wistful, though.“It could be me,” David says at the same moment as Stevie asks, “What about David?”A festive fake dating!AU.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Stevie Budd & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, The Brewer Family
Comments: 272
Kudos: 500
Collections: Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020) collection. 



> Huge thank you to my beta petrodobreva and to the lovely people who cheered me on and loaned me all manner of expertise, including nontoxic, whetherwoman, schittposting, singsongsung, and more! I seriously didn't think it would be this long! I really wanted to show Patrick's relationship with his parents being complicated, but still deeply loving; I very much hope it is enjoyed. The timeline is Jeremy Bearimy, but mid-late season 4ish, except a butterfly flapped its wings and David and Patrick are not yet together.
> 
> Huge thanks to the prompter, I hope you enjoy!

David knows that something’s up when Patrick comes back from the café on a Sunday afternoon without a coffee for David. Patrick also seems to realise this because his eyes go wide and he looks down at his own empty hands in shock. “Shit, sorry, I totally spaced on your coffee.”

It’s not like David had actually _asked_ for a coffee, it’s just that it’s so standard for Patrick to get him one now that it’s weird for him not to. It’s also pretty weird for him to swear in the store, or at all, really—David’s basically only heard him drop that filter this far when intoxicated. “Patrick, are you okay?”

Patrick scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just—” the bell above the door dings and he slots his charming customer service smile onto his face as he turns towards it. “Hi, how can I help you?”

They’re busy the rest of the afternoon, which is a good thing, but means David doesn’t have a chance to follow up. He keeps an eye on Patrick and can see that the subtle line of tension across his shoulders doesn’t let up. He’s looking forward to the end of the day just so he can ask what’s going on, but just before they close an even better plan comes along.

Stevie strolls into Rose Apothecary with a grin—letting in a blast of cold air behind her—and proceeds to get in the way of all their closing tasks. She’s obviously _waiting_ to be asked what she’s so happy about, but for once the social dynamic is unbalanced in David’s favour because Patrick gives him a significant look and they both totally pretend they don’t notice.

Eventually, Stevie huffs out a sigh. “Ugh, I hate it when you two work together, you’re way too good at it.” She emphasises this with a gesture around the store as if to prove her point. “It’s almost enough to make me not want to invite you to share some of the high-quality kush I’ve got a hold of for once.”

Patrick’s smoked with them a few times, but David’s never seen him perk up quite this much at the idea. “Seriously? I will buy us so much pizza if we can get high _as soon as possible_.” The strange note of desperation in his voice is enough to distract David from his need to comment on Stevie’s un-ironic use of the word ‘kush’.

“Uh, sure.” Stevie shoots a questioning look at David.

He shrugs; he really has no idea what’s up. “Sounds good to me.” He takes a look around the store to check all his closing tasks are done.

Patrick frowns at the cash register. “Ugh, I just closed up. Can we damage out a bottle of wine?”

David tries not to reveal how surprising that is—he’d at least expect Patrick to say they should pay for it on Tuesday. “You’re the numbers guy, so if you say we can, we can.” When Patrick turns to get one from the back David turns to Stevie, voice almost a hiss as he tries to whisper quickly so Patrick won’t hear. “No idea what’s going on with him, he came back from his break all weird.”

Stevie narrows her eyes in consideration before nodding. “Okay, so our mission is to get him to act normal again, even if it means we have to listen to him talk about feelings or something. We can do that.”

It’s times like this David gets the bizarre urge to hug Stevie, but he manages to resist.

❄️❄️❄️

David is pretty sure that Patrick, when high, has never met an urge to hug that he hasn’t fulfilled. They’re all on Stevie’s couch and Patrick is sprawled out across David's legs. David is very grateful he has legs, otherwise Patrick wouldn’t be touching him right now. He's sprawled out across Stevie's legs too and she's petting his hair, talking about how soft it is.

Stevie isn't attracted to Patrick, which is bizarre. How does that even work? David's been attracted to Patrick since the moment they met in the spring. He hasn't been able to turn it off. Will it ever turn off? How is it even possible Stevie isn’t attracted to Patrick? He has the prettiest eyes. And a pretty mouth. David is very glad Stevie has the end of Patrick with the mouth on her lap, because he probably wouldn’t get away with petting those parts of him the way he’s petting Patrick’s legs.

They’ve finished the bottle of wine, two and a half extra-large pizzas, and three of the highest quality joints David’s smoked in years. It’s probably time to ask what’s up with Patrick. In a casual way. David can do casual.

“ _Pat_ rick.” His name comes out elongated, the way his mother says it. _Ew._ David decides to power through. “I just remembered, you were going to say something earlier and we got interrupted. Ha ha”—why did he just say the words _‘ha ha’_? This is a mess—“did something happen on your break?”

Stevie shoots David a look that is part ‘it’s killing me not to laugh at you right now’ and part ‘chill the fuck out.’ He deserves both parts of that look.

Patrick groans and covers his face with his hands. “It’s _fine_ , it’s just—I told my parents I wasn’t going home for Christmas, because of the store—”

“I already _told_ you that I’d handle that, though.” David wasn’t planning on interrupting, but when has that ever stopped him?

“No, no that’s not the issue.” Patrick removes his hands from his face. “It’s just that because I’m not going there, they decided _they_ are coming _here_.” He sounds like it’s a death sentence, which David would understand if it were _his_ family, but…

“I thought you liked your parents?” David’s spoken to Marcy, Patrick’s mom, a number of times when she’s called the store and she seems really nice. The sort of nice, normal person who would raise someone as solid and dependable and smart as Patrick.

“I do like my parents.” Patrick’s exaggerated pout belies his words.

Stevie pokes Patrick hard in the side. “So, you have parents you actually like, who give enough of a shit about you to travel to this shithole for the holidays? Oh yeah, that sucks, sorry dude.”

Patrick kind of… deflates. “You’re right, there’s just a thing I promised myself I’d tell them the next time I saw them and I didn’t think it would be so soon?”

That’s not something David knows how to respond to; he doesn’t know what it could be. Something about the store? There’s a suggestion in the back of his head, but he shuts that down firmly. “Talking to your family is widely recommended, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the appeal myself.”

Patrick laughs a little. “I usually like talking to them. It’s just… hard this time.”

“Could we, um, help?” Stevie looks uncomfortable, but in a fuzzy way, her edges softened by the weed. “I mean, I don’t think _we’re_ the people to ask for help with anything family-related, but maybe we could suggest someone else to ask.”

“That’s… sweet?” Patrick smiles a little, but then he sighs, dropping his head back on Stevie’s lap and shifting his legs. David tries not to get too distracted by the reminder that part of Patrick is draped across him. “This should really come from me. I just—I feel like—” Patrick stares so hard at the ceiling it looks painful. “I don’t know.”

David strokes his hand down Patrick’s shin in a way he hopes is comforting and the sort of thing a friend who doesn’t have a stupid enduring crush would do. When Patrick’s line of sight snaps from the ceiling right to meeting David’s eyes he feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and desperately hopes his slowed reflexes apply to his enduringly expressive face. At least he manages to resist snatching his hand back guiltily.

“David, how did you come out to your parents?” Patrick’s voice is soft, but the words are unmistakable.

David has never tried harder not to visibly react to something _in his life_. He thinks he still does, though, and Stevie definitely lets out a tiny gasp. He’d glare at her if he could look away from Patrick’s plaintive gaze. His hands freeze where they are, in the process of trying to move them away casually.

“Right, well, uh,” David feels like such an asshole telling his coming-out story and potentially pulling focus, so he stalls. “Coming out is a very personal thing, you know? And you—or, anyone, anyone coming out should only do it on their own terms.” He drops his hands back to Patrick’s leg, telling himself again it’s comforting.

David has to break the eye contact, because he’s not ashamed at all of how he came out, but it just doesn’t feel _helpful_ to share it now, when Patrick is so obviously agonising over this. “That's why I brought this couple home one day in college, and just told my parents to deal with it.”

Patrick and Stevie both laugh a little, breaking the tension, and it all feels a lot more manageable. David squeezes Patrick’s leg a little, trying to measure the exact right pressure to indicate ‘friendship’, while also desperately memorising the feel of Patrick’s skin and bone and muscle just one layer of fabric away from the touch of his hand.

“God, this would be so much easier if I could do that.” Patrick blushes, a pink flush covering him in just a few seconds. “I mean—not a couple, that’s not my, I mean. There’s nothing wrong with that, I just mean—”

“It would be easier if you could just say, ‘Mom, Dad, here’s my boyfriend’, right?” Stevie’s expression is dangerously thoughtful.

“Yes, exactly!” Patrick points emphatically. “It just feels like that would be… a better way to do it.”

David nods, hoping he’s not doing it too many times, because—Patrick has just confirmed that he’s queer. This thing that David has suspected and buried and hoped for and buried so deep in his mind is just… out there now. For real. But this is seriously not the time to think about that. He manages to stop nodding, no idea how long he’d been doing it. He really does understand Patrick’s dilemma, though; David’s really not a big fan of explaining his sexuality himself, it’s much easier to just let people work it out from context.

“What if you _did_ have a boyfriend?” Stevie makes it sound so reasonable and David does his best not to show the stab of jealousy deep in his gut at the words.

“They’re coming in like, two weeks, Stevie. There’s no way I can meet a guy in that time, let alone get to a point of introducing him to my parents.” Patrick sounds wistful, though.

“It could be me,” David says at the same moment as Stevie asks, “What about David?”

Patrick’s brow furrows. “What?”

Stevie shrugs. “Have David pretend to be your boyfriend while your parents are here.”

That… isn’t really what David meant when he’d said it could be him, but it’s probably for the best that he pretends it was.

“I’d be happy to help.”

Patrick looks like he might cry, which is really not a flattering reaction. David pats his leg again; it’s apparently become his only move in the face of all these emotions.

“I mean, not that’s I’m exactly the sort of person you’d _want_ to introduce to your parents as a boyfriend, that would probably make the whole thing worse—”

“David.” Patrick’s shaking his head but he’s also maybe smiling. “Anyone would be _lucky_ to get to call you their boyfriend. I know _I_ feel very lucky to call you a friend.” He tilts his head so he can look at Stevie. “You, too. You’re my favourites.”

“Ugh, why do we even let you smoke with us, you always get like this.” Stevie glares at Patrick, but her hand goes back to petting his hair.

Patrick sighs dramatically; David is secretly fond of how dramatic Patrick can get when he’s high. “Would you really do that, David?”

David shrugs like it’s no big deal, which he is choosing to tell himself is the truth. “Of course.”

“If he’d said no, I would totally drag it up for you.” Stevie’s smirking and David gets a little lost in the hotness of _that_ whole scenario for a second.

David’s drifting off on the idea of Patrick and Stevie-the-drag-king making out, his hand softly stroking Patrick’s leg without his conscious effect, when Patrick speaks again. “They’re planning on staying at the motel; I think they said they’d book it tomorrow?”

“Oh no.”

David doesn’t realise he’s the one who said that until both his friends are looking at him in concern. “It’s just—they’ll probably see my family and they are totally _useless_ with secrets.”

“So you start the dating now.” Stevie shrugs like it’s obvious. “You can say you’d been keeping it quiet for a while and decided to give that up, then it’ll spread around this gossip nest of a town in no time. I mean, I’m pretty sure most people already think you’re together anyway.”

“I’m sorry, what?” David really hates when his voice gets this high-pitched, but sometimes it just happens.

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression, actually.” Patrick’s blushing and not making eye-contact. “Ray keeps saying that I can ‘tell him anything I want’ and asking when you’re going to stay over again since that whole dead body thing.”

“That was _months_ ago, why didn’t I know this?”

Stevie looks at him disbelievingly. “You didn’t know? I saw Jocelyn congratulate you on how well things are going with Patrick last week, I thought you weren’t correcting her because she was buying fifty dollars worth of applesauce.”

“I thought she meant with the store!”

Patrick snorts because he is the absolute worst and David doesn’t even know why he’s willing to do this for him. Except he absolutely does know why and it’s very much a problem.

“I mean, I’ve gotten some looks when I’ve called you my partner, but I feel like hastily correcting that to business partner kind of gives off the opposite impression to what I’m after right now.”

David blinks. “You want to give the impression I’m your… partner?” Why are his hands still touching Patrick, this conversation keeps running into blocks that remind him it’s a terrible thing to keep up, such as the way they clench tight at this reveal.

It’s impressive that Patrick’s blush can get more intense, but it does. “I meant they’d think I was trying to reinforce how straight I am when I am very much _not_ that.” He looks surprised at himself and David wonders if he’s talked about this to anyone.

Patrick has a lot of friends—they come into the store sometimes and chat, or Patrick will tell a story about something that happened with his baseball team, how Mo teased him for tripping, or Debbie was finally getting some confidence. Patrick is a sociable guy in a way that David isn’t even good at faking. But that doesn’t mean he talks to any of them about his sexuality.

Probably Patrick should be asking one of _them_ to be his fake-boyfriend. Or maybe his real boyfriend, if that’s something he wants how has it not happened for him yet when he knows so many people? But they aren’t the people Patrick wanted to spend time with when he freaked out about this.

Is he Patrick’s best friend? Or, well, Stevie's here too, maybe he trusts her the most? Except that's ridiculous Patrick spends all day every day with David. Which means he maybe-definitely is his best friend. In Schitt's Creek. Which is not saying much, and also saying a _lot._

Stevie starts talking, which reminds David that he probably should have been figuring out how to say something supportive and open instead of having a crisis about his place in Patrick’s life. “Does this mean I can tell you about the fucking _amazing_ dick I sucked last week? I was going to wait until you went to the bathroom to tell David, because I’m classy like that, but holy _fuck.”_ She throws in some illustrative hand gestures.

Patrick’s bright red, but his laugh is so utterly joyous that David wants to box it up and triple lock it. “Sure, I guess.” His voice comes out almost strangled through the laughter.

“What about porn recommendations? Because David’s is all like, high art bullshit that puts me straight to sleep.”

“Oh my _god_ , Stevie, you make it sound like when he’s not around all we talk about is sex. And my taste in porn is _sophisticated_ , thank you very much, not like the fucking ‘plumber in for maintenance’ trash you like.” David cannot believe this conversation is happening with Patrick laying on top of them.

“It doesn’t seem that odd you two would talk about sex, I mean you did—” Patrick slams a fist into his open palm in a gesture that is at once mystifying and illustrative.

“You know what? I think it’s time to go home.” David sets his hands defiantly against Patrick’s calves, but he can’t quite make himself push them off his lap.

Patrick does it for him, though, managing to get off them and onto his feet. “Ugh, you’re probably right.” He stretches and it pulls his shirt taut against his body. David’s staring and Stevie definitely notices, but he’s pretty sure Patrick doesn’t so it’s _fine_. He pulls David to his feet and Stevie follows them to the door.

“You should probably text me when you get home, just so I don’t get my hopes up you both fell into a ditch and I don’t need to deal with you anymore.”

Patrick hugs her because he’s definitely still high enough to be the version of himself that does that all the time. “I was going to anyway, I need to know more about all that plumber porn.”

Stevie’s answering laugh is almost squeaky with delight. “You see, David? A true friend is _supportive_.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” David’s tone is dry but he smiles, even as he reels from hearing Patrick say the word ‘porn’.

Ray’s is on the way to the motel, so David walks Patrick there. The night around them is quiet and David’s mind whirls with the terribleness of this fake-dating idea, and if he really wants to do it, and how _much_ he wants to do it.

When they get to Ray’s, Patrick pulls him into a hug. They’ve hugged a few times before—David’s favourite is probably still the first, the day they opened the store—but this feels different. It’s good to feel the press of Patrick’s body against his, but there’s also an aura of relief and gratitude to it. It makes David want to hold on tight and never let go, to tell him it’s okay and he has people to support him no matter what, but when Patrick starts to pull away he follows suit.

It takes David a bit too long to get himself moving once Patrick’s inside with the door closed. He feels like he should have followed him. Eventually, he shakes impossible thoughts from his head and heads down the road to the motel.

❄️❄️❄️

The store is closed on Mondays, but David has never realised how much he and Patrick still usually spend the day in communication with each other until it’s mid-afternoon and not a text has passed between them. He knows he can, and probably should, break this silence, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. He can’t stop thinking about the reveals of the day before and telling himself he needs to _stop._ It’s too cold to go outside, not that he has much of anything to do out there anyway, so he spends the day in his room at the motel, bickering with Alexis and poking at plans for the store.

It’s evening by the time a message comes through with a picture of a bowl of stir fry.

**iMessage:** Patrick (business guy)  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Ray made that chicken stir fry again. You want me to bring you some leftovers for lunch tomorrow?  


It’s very thoughtful, which is typical for Patrick. Ray is an excellent cook and Patrick has an amazing ability to remember David’s favourites. David’s glad Alexis isn’t around to see him smiling soppily at his phone. She’s stopped saying anything about it to him by this point; she just gives him these looks of _pity_ which is somehow so much worse. Maybe Patrick forgot about Stevie’s proposed scheme. They _were_ pretty intoxicated. David thinks about his hand on Patrick’s shin and wishes he could forget it.

Instead, his thoughts quickly devolve into imagining them in the sorts of outlandish romantic scenarios. David is a Lord, due to marry well, but hopelessly beguiled by Patrick, his footman. Patrick is the producer on a terrible celebrity dating show that David got himself roped into and David finds him far more interesting than any contestant. David is the star of a live sex show and Patrick keeps coming back, but they aren’t allowed to touch the audience.

David watches a lot of movies, and reads a lot of books, and apparently has a whole stockpile of imagined plotlines wherein he and Patrick desperately want to be together, but must carry on in secret. Somehow, he never quite imagined the opposite—wherein Patrick _doesn’t_ want to be with David, but will publicly pretend to be.

His phone buzzes.

**iMessage:** Patrick (business guy)  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Oh, and he made a lemon tart for dessert, so I’ll definitely bring you some of that.  
  
**David:** Yes to both  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** It’s polite to say please, you know.  
  
**David:** Is it? Fascinating  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Your manners aren’t very Canadian  
  
**David:** Too many years in New York made me tragically uncouth, but my passport still has the Canadian coat of arms on it  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Oh, so that’s your excuse  
  
**David:** It’s an excuse both versatile and valid  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I bet  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** On an unrelated note, were you serious about offering to do that thing we talked about yesterday? I was going to wait to talk about it tomorrow but I thought maybe over text would be less embarrassing.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** It’s really okay if you don’t want to, I know it’s a lot to ask of you.  
  
**David:** So, you actually want to do it?  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Only if you’re really okay with it.  
  
**David:** Of course. I’m sure you’d do the same for me  
  
**David:** Are you sure you want your parents to meet me as your ‘boyfriend’ considering how terrible my manners are?  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I’m pretty sure my mom’s already half in love with you after those times she’s called the store. It’ll soften the blow.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I mean  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I don’t really think they’ll consider it a blow. I hope they won’t.  
  
**David:** I’ll be here for you whatever happens.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Thank you  
  


David definitely should have thought this through. He wants to blame the weed, and the pizza, and the wine, but he remembers the feeling of Patrick sprawled out over his lap. There’s no way he would ever have said no, sober or not. Regardless of any crush he might have, he cares about Patrick, in a way he has cared about very few people who have deserved it. And Patrick deserves it. If Patrick needs this to be able to come out to his parents then David will do it.

God. Patrick is queer. Patrick is queer and not out to his parents and it’s going to come out to them soon. Patrick is queer and that absolutely doesn’t mean he’s into David, but also maybe it _could_ mean that. David has gotten a lot of flirty vibes from Patrick, pretty much since they met, but has never had enough information to be sure of his preferences and his interest. And David _needs_ to be sure about this because the store is the best thing he has ever done with his life and Patrick is so integral to it.

David knows for sure that Patrick had been engaged to a woman, because she’d turned up at the store a few weeks ago and seemed to totally freak Patrick out. He’d clearly not wanted to talk about it, though, so David had let him keep the details close to his chest. That hadn’t really been able to give David a hint either way about Patrick’s preferences, but got added to the list he couldn’t stop keeping of the information he knew about Patrick’s preferences.

Not that any of that matters right now. David can keep his feelings packed away. They are far less important than both his friendship and his business relationship with Patrick. Considering he’s seemingly fresh out of the closet, he doubts Patrick’s going to want to play this with a lot of PDA. Not that that idea is unappealing, it’s just… dangerous.

This is going to be fine.

❄️❄️❄️

David drags his heels the next morning, but still finds himself heading to the store by 11 a.m. The alternative was listening to his mother and Alexis argue about whose fault it was that Rachel Bilson canceled her RSVP to Alexis' Sweet Sixteen, so facing Patrick suddenly became a lot less daunting.

Patrick’s helping a customer when David arrives, but he still shoots a smile over her shoulder. David has the results of a stop in the cafe in hand and Patrick reaches out for his tea without pausing in his explanation of the benefits of using a daily moisturiser, even if you have oily skin.

This normal, everyday interaction sets off a whole swarm of butterflies in his stomach. _It’s just nerves, that’s all._ Even his internal monologue doesn’t sound convinced. David had been telling himself he was past the worst of his crush because he’d stopped obsessing about every time they brushed past each other in the store, but he should probably rethink that. Except, he doesn’t _want_ to rethink it, so he goes to the storage space behind the cash register to take off his layers of outerwear so he can be ready when the customer comes to pay from her impressive skincare haul.

Once she’s gone, David raises an eyebrow. “You’ve gotten good at that whole spiel.”

He expects Patrick to respond with a smug smile, but instead, he ducks his head shyly. “Well, I learned from the best.”

David waves off the praise. He can’t deal with Patrick being soft and cautious. He needs to get back on level ground. “Mm, you say you’ve learned, but how many steps is the skincare regimen you’re doing these days?”

“Just four, but you said those are the essential ones.” Patrick is smug now, and that isn’t any easier to take, not at all.

David blinks. He’d teased Patrick about this before, a few months ago, having found out that his routine was just washing his face in the shower—told him he was being a hypocrite, always up-selling the products he doesn’t even use. “What?”

Patrick shrugs and takes a sip of his tea before answering. “You were right. I may be copying you when I say this stuff, but I still believe you know about it, so I should walk the walk.”

Another customer comes in before David can get him to give every detail of this development and ask why he hasn’t had David create a custom routine for him and also repeat the words ‘You were right’ a dozen more times while he’s at it. Also, presumably four steps means he isn’t using an oil and David really needs to get him to fix that.

He doesn’t get a chance. There’s a steady stream of customers, which is great news. Their sales projections have been relying heavily on there being a big Christmas rush this month and luckily it is happening. David lets himself sink into it, explaining all their beautiful products to people and helping them to get what they’re looking for.

It’s busy enough that he and Patrick take separate lunch breaks, but when David sits in the back with the leftover stir fry that Patrick had brought him it feels a bit like they’re together, even so.

It’s mid-afternoon when they get enough of a break between customers to really fix some of the chaos the rush has caused. David feels like he’s going to burst from not mentioning the elephant in the room, especially once he finishes restocking the candles and realises that he doesn’t have any other tasks to procrastinate with. “So, when do you want to start?”

Patrick looks for a second like he’s going to play at not knowing what David’s talking about—there’s a gleam in his eye that usually precedes trolling David mercilessly—but he doesn’t. “That’s up to you, really. My parents are coming in a week-and-a-half and will be here for a whole week. They sent me their itinerary yesterday.”

David can’t help but smile at that. It isn’t a surprise that Patrick’s parents are the sort of people who plan this way, who have an itinerary and make sure to share it, but it’s sweet. David’s not sure he’d had as much as a week’s notice for any trip his whole childhood. “We should probably start soon, then? If we want it to be common knowledge by the time they get here.” It will take maybe five minutes to become common knowledge, but now that they’re talking about it, David doesn’t think he can wait. If they start now, that means it’s longer before they have to stop. “If you’re sure this is what you want to do.”

Patrick huffs out a frustrated breath, but then gives David a gentle smile before he speaks. “You’re the one doing me the huge favour here, David. So, yes, I’m sure, but are you?”

“Yes.” As if David could say anything different, with Patrick looking at him so sincerely.

Patrick glances away for a moment, but then meets David’s eyes even more intensely than before. His eyes are so warm and earnest, leaving David utterly exposed. “And you’re sure about starting today?”

“Mmhm.” It comes out as barely more than a squeak, so David tries again. “Yeah, yes.”

The press of Patrick’s lips is totally unexpected that it takes a moment to realise what is even happening. His lips are soft and plush and David’s hand comes up to hold Patrick’s head so he can kiss back properly without any conscious choice to move it, but then the bell above the door goes.

Patrick pulls back slowly, like this was something utterly normal and not earth-shatteringly new. “Hello, how can we help you?” He speaks before turning, but doesn’t seem surprised at all it’s Bob. In fact, there’s a suspicious slant to his mouth—the mouth that was just touching David’s mouth, _fuck_ —even as he wears his customer service smile.

Bob, for his part, looks totally over-the-moon. He keeps darting looks between David and Patrick even as he rambles on about looking for the _perfect_ Christmas present for Gwen, who is maybe his wife? David is too dazed to do much, but Patrick up-sells him beautifully.

Bob leaves laden with two candles, their most expensive face cream, one of the tea selection boxes they had Mr. Hockley put together for the holidays, and a cashmere shawl.

“There, that should get the news around town pretty fast.” Patrick looks so pleased with himself, that it takes David a second of admiring him before he finally understands what just happened.

“Right, yes. You kissed me because you saw that Bob was coming. Smart plan.” David doesn’t think he sounds as dumbfounded and disappointed as he feels. He’s also impressed, which is what he tries his best to project.

Patrick shrugs. “Is that okay? We probably should have talked about—boundaries and things first. I just kind of saw the opportunity and I took it.”

David lets his smile loose on his face, hoping it’s comforting. Of course that’s what Patrick did, he shouldn’t be surprised. “Yeah, of course.” He spots some people walking towards the store and turns to the door. “We’ll talk about all that stuff later.”

The last two hours of the day are the busiest the shore has been in months and everyone seems to be giving the two of them _significant_ looks. Neither David nor Patrick say anything in response, but Patrick keeps sliding a hand down David’s arm, or brushing close past him, or even _putting an arm around his waist_ whenever he gets in range.

David had assumed Patrick would be cautious, using this to tiptoe out of the closet, but apparently he needs to reset his expectations. It’s distressingly easy to sink into the role, reciprocating the touches and returning the conspiratorial looks Patrick sends him. Conspiratorial looks which David knows mean ‘I think we’re getting away with this’, but he’s pretty sure to anyone else look exactly like ‘I’m planning to suck the hell out of your dick as soon as we close for the day’.

By the time they shuffle the last customer out, ten minutes after closing, David is impossibly flustered; it’s like a less upsetting version of the panic attack, constantly aware of the beat of his heart and every inch of his body. Patrick flips the sign, locks the door, and turns around with an enormous grin. “I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

David laughs, feels almost hysterical with it, but Patrick laughs as well and it’s okay. They go through their closing duties, chatting about the customers and the sales they made, and if there’s anything they need to try and get more of before Christmas.

Once they’re done, Patrick shoots David a rueful look. “We should probably talk details.” He pauses. “I would suggest we split a bottle of wine while we do, but I’m kind of still recovering from Sunday night.”

David laughs, relieved he doesn’t have to be the one to say that. He can’t believe he’s reached a point in his life that just some wine and weed can give him a hangover that lingers for two days, but he definitely has. “How about we talk details with a side of lemon tart?”

“You didn’t finish the piece I left you?”

David raises an eyebrow and waits.

Patrick shakes his head and grins. “Okay, yes, I did bring some more. You got me.”

They have a couch in the little back room area they got when Stevie decided she needed somewhere to relax when she came to hide out from work. David had pointed out that she could go to her own home but didn’t complain when she’d turned up driving Roland’s truck with a sofa salvaged from the motel in the back.

David collapses on the couch while Patrick retrieves the tart that he stuck behind some boxes. “It’s like you don’t even trust me.”

“I trust you to be unable to resist eating my portion.” Patrick sinks into the sofa, angling his body sideways.

David is very aware that Patrick’s knee is pressing lightly into his thigh. He’s still feeling ramped up, hyper-aware of his body after two hours of casual touches from Patrick. It’s ridiculous, he hasn’t felt this anxiously horny since he was a teenager. “That’s no way to talk about your fake boyfriend.”

Patrick picks up one of the slices of lemon tart with his hand and takes a bite. “What exactly gave you the impression that being my fake boyfriend would mean _less_ teasing?”

David had definitely expected him to use one of the forks they keep on hand and he can’t help but notice the way his fingers dig into the lemon filling. A vivid image fills his mind of sucking those fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. David isn’t even into mixing food and sex, yet the image goes straight to his dick.

“I guess I can’t offer you the same incentive to be as _nice_ to me that a real boyfriend would.” He definitely shouldn’t have said that, but he can’t regret it when it makes Patrick blush all the way down to his collar and a look of what David is _sure_ is arousal flash over his face.

“Very confident in your abilities, eh?” Patrick’s voice is a little rough and David seriously needs to pull this back before he fucking _devours_ him.

“Am I going to get some of that tart, or what?” David thinks he manages to avoid sounding flirty, but it’s hard to judge when he’s scarcely clinging to control.

Patrick rolls his eyes—which he does often and surely isn’t normally this sexy?—but hands over the tupperware. They sit in a taut silence while they eat. David’s pretty sure Patrick has to be feeling the thick tension in the air, but neither of them mention it.

Patrick does lick his fingers when he’s done and David does everything he can to avoid watching, but he still sees it out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry for kissing you without checking first.”

David huffs. “We’ve established that it was fine. It was a good plan, I’m sure everyone in town knows by now.”

As if on cue, both their phones buzz at the same time.

**iMessage:** Stevie and the Buds  
  
Stevie  
**Stevie:** Sooooo I guess you guys decided to go ahead with the plan? Thanks for the head’s up, Darlene just asked how long you guys have been together.  


David winces as he reads it, but Patrick laughs. “Oops, we should probably decide some details and fill her in.”

They work it out and text Stevie. It’s been a couple of months, but they didn’t want to have everyone in their business.

“So, what’s next? How would we act now that everyone knows.”

Patrick fidgets with his fingers, but his voice is confident. “Well, after having to hide for so long, I’d be pretty excited to be able to show you off.”

David’s heart pounds imagining what it would be like to have someone feel that way about him. Even someone pretending they do is a lot. “Hence all the touching today?”

Patrick shrugs. “I think I’d be pretty happy to finally be able to do that, after resisting it for so long.”

“I think I’d… like that a lot. To have—someone who felt like that about me.”

Patrick frowns the way he always does when David references his disastrous past relationships, which doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like David said something _sad._ “And, uh, kissing? Or do we want to leave it at the one? People will hear about it.”

“Was it that bad?” David desperately hopes he sounds like he’s joking.

Patrick reaches out and grabs David’s hand. “No, of course not, it was—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “It was actually the first time I’ve done that, with a guy. And it was amazing.”

David has no idea how to process that. That Patrick is doing this to come out to his parents and wants to spend the next two weeks showing David off and he’d never kissed another man before. “Oh.”

“Is that weird? I mean, it’s not like it was my first kiss, I’ve kissed a handful of women before—”

“—We’ve all kissed a handful of women.”

Patrick glares, but it’s playful. He’s still holding David’s hand. “It was just… it was different to that. Made me think that I’m moving in the right direction, you know.”

David nods, even though he’s not at all sure he does know. “I understand if you want to, um, save your other kisses for when you have a real boyfriend?”

Patrick shakes his head, his mouth quirked in a smile. “It’s not like I have a limited supply where I only get so many and they’ll run out if I’m not careful. If we’re trying to—uh, trying to show how I’d be in a—a real relationship with a man? I wouldn’t shy away from kissing you. I’m not suggesting we make out on the shop floor, but especially when my parents are here, I… well. I guess I want them to see I’m not ashamed.”

David’s heart is pounding so loud he’s sure Patrick can hear it. It’s one of the most beautiful things David’s ever heard and he has absolutely no idea what to do with it. Well, he has one idea and he can’t help himself, he leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on Patrick’s mouth. It’s even more chaste than the kiss earlier but it breaks David’s heart right open. It feels so good and _right_ that David wants to sob with it.

“I guess we should get comfortable with doing that.” It doesn’t sound convincing, but Patrick takes in a shaky breath and nods.

They kiss again and, _God_ , it would be so easy to turn it into something more. David can sense the banked fire just beneath the surface. Except, Patrick’s never done this with a man before and, while David doesn’t want ask him to define his sexuality, it sounds like he’s gay. Which would mean he’s never done this before with anyone he was even theoretically attracted to. If David offered to be his chance to explore all the things he’s never been able to before he now thinks Patrick might say yes and that’s why he can’t.

It’s a strangely upsetting realisation that David is no longer willing to break his own heart for a fuck. He’s been doing better at looking after himself, even if the Jake thing was a mess it doesn't even rank in the top 10 messiest relationship situations he's been in. This, though—this he wants so bad he _aches_ and that’s why he can’t allow himself to have it. So he stops kissing Patrick and slides as far away as he can go. He has one thought for what might kill the mood. “So, that ex who came to town last month? Is she likely to… come up?” Presumably, if they’d been engaged she would have known Patrick’s parents.

Patrick sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Right, yes. Rachel. It’s possible they’ll mention her, I guess. Me and Rachel were, uh, actually together a really long time? Off and on since high school, until I moved here.”

“Wow.” David can’t even begin to imagine being in a relationship for anywhere near that time. “So you broke up with her and then moved right away?” He shouldn’t be prying, he probably doesn’t need this much information, but he can’t help wanting to know.

“Yep.” Patrick’s neck muscles stand out as he clenches his jaw. “I knew what we had couldn’t work—I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I knew we really had to end it—and I figured if I stayed there we’d just end up getting back together again. So I kind of… ran away.”

“And joined the Schitt’s Creek circus?”

Patrick’s mouth curves in a slight smile that makes David’s heart soar far more than is warranted. “Something like that.”

David wants to ask more, but he can tell it’s not something Patrick’s especially proud of and he can certainly relate to that. “Shall we go to the cafe for dinner?”

Patrick smiles spreads a bit further. “Well, I have heard the food there is moderately edible.”

David tries to hold back his own grin. Patrick has said something like that before, when they went for dinner with Stevie on his birthday back in the summer. For a moment, David had thought that was a date, but it had passed and the three of them had had a good night. “Exactly.”

“Sounds like a date.”

❄️❄️❄️

It’s surprisingly easy, that first week and a half. Sure, when David returned to the motel his family surrounded him, asking why they hadn’t been informed earlier, but he pointed out their behaviour was a demonstration of the reason he’d kept it under wraps. Other than that, people accept the whole thing alarmingly quickly. It’s almost unnerving how little has changed in how people talk to David about Patrick.

They still work together and spend plenty of time outside of work together, sometimes with Stevie, sometimes without. They still get each other tea or coffee, depending on who is doing the run to the cafe at any given moment. They still tease each other, and laugh at each other, and, well, they still flirt a lot. David was aware they flirted, thought it was just part of their dynamic, but even though on the surface it hasn’t changed, it now feels entirely different.

Not _as_ different, of course, as the physicality. Patrick was serious about his intention to show David off. It’s like any moment they can be touching, they are. And the kissing! The store is open to the public and Patrick drops kisses on David’s lips at any given moment. He’s obviously high on the feeling of finally getting to do this with a man and there’s no way David’s going to stop him. Even if every moment chips away at his careful resolve to not seduce Patrick into a friends-with-benefits situation.

The most difficult part doesn’t come from the people he lives with, it comes from the person Patrick does. They’re eating lunch when Patrick gets a text and sighs. It’s a sign of David’s growth as a person that even though his instinctual reaction to that is to get away from any potential discussion of sad emotions he doesn’t do it. “What’s wrong?”

Patrick shakes his head. “Ray keeps telling me that I should invite you over, telling me it’s my home, too and I shouldn’t keep myself from expressing every aspect of my life there.”

David frowns. “But I was there on Tuesday?” They’d had a delicious dinner with Ray and then gone to Patrick’s room and sat on his bed watching Drive Me Crazy. David hadn’t suggested that they should try to make it sound like they were fucking even though he couldn’t stop thinking about it and obsessing over the sounds Patrick would make.

“Um, I mean, he keeps saying that you should stay the night. ”

David can’t even enjoy Patrick’s blush because he thinks he might be doing some of that himself. The thing is, Alexis has made more than one pointed comment about him always sleeping in his own bed and no amount of pointing out that Patrick lives with _Ray_ is likely to stop her. “I see.”

“He, uh, actually seemed kind of hurt that I kept brushing him off. He asked if it’s because you don’t like him.”

It is deeply annoying that this makes David feel guilty. His feelings for Ray are positive, mostly because of the amount of food cooked by him he eats, but it’s not like they’re great friends. Plenty of people think David doesn’t like them and in most cases it’s true and yet not wanting to hurt Ray’s feelings is somehow a real factor and not an excuse for what he says next. “I could stay over tomorrow?”

“You—really?”

David shrugs. “You have no idea how much I miss sleeping in a bed bigger than a twin, even if there’s someone else in it. And having a night away from Alexis? The dream!” He’s laying it on thick, but Patrick smiles, so that’s okay.

“I’ll tell Ray.”

❄️❄️❄️

David’s strangely nervous as he arrives at Ray’s the next day, despite having been there a number of times by now, but once he’s in it’s easy to relax. It helps that the heating here is much more effective than at the motel, so he gets to feel cosy and warm without resorting to layers of blankets. Ray made amazing fish tacos and once they’re done eating he asks if they’re interested in joining him to watch _Legally Blonde_. David's emphatic agreement is only in small part because it keeps his mind from wandering up to Parick's room, Patrick's bed, where he'll be sleeping later.

The film is, as always, excellent, and watching it with Patrick snuggled up close only enhances the experience. Every so often Ray glances over, his moustache almost twitching with how obviously pleased he is by this development and it’s the first time David feels bad about lying to so many people.

That’s quickly forgotten, however, when Patrick wriggles and readjusts so he can grab David’s hand and trace along his rings. He’s very good at this. David’s sure it’s partially because he’s been wanting for so long to have a chance to do all these coupley things with a guy. David’s exhausted with constantly reminding himself it’s not real and allows himself so sink into it, just a little.

When Patrick leads David up the stairs by the hand, it’s fine. It doesn’t make his cock twitch or his heart thump. Not at all. The moment ends when Patrick drops his hand at the top of the stairs and starts talking about the store and all of their seasonal events coming up.

He still can’t believe he agreed to a holiday-themed Open Mic Night, which is sure to be even more embarrassing than usual. Their only saving grace is that Patrick, at least, is a great singer. He’d embarrassed David at the first one by dedicating his rendition of “You’ve Got A Friend” to him, but it had turned out to be a surprisingly touching gesture. David’s a sucker for Carole King, which is obviously the only reason he still thinks about it so often, not Patrick’s buttery voice and sincere eyes as he sang.

Eventually, they each head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Patrick first. David really wants to drag out his skincare routine, but he also feels uncomfortable taking up the only bathroom for too long, so he sticks to a stripped back seven-step version.

Patrick’s reading with his legs under the covers when David gets back. There’s something about the image that strikes David with a fierce surge of tenderness. He tries to be casual as he grabs his book and gets into the left side of the bed, which is the correct side even though they hadn’t discussed it.

They’ve been reading quietly for a bit when Patrick checks the time. “Oh, by the way, Ray is going to come in to say goodnight sometime in the next ten minutes and he never knocks. He’s done it every night since I moved here and I doubt having a _guest_ is going to make him learn boundaries.”

There’s a hint of suggestion to the way Patrick says ‘guest’ and that’s what David blames for the idea that pops into his head next. “We should make out.” At least he didn’t say the thing about faking sex noises, though maybe this is actually worse because he’s suggesting they actually do it.

“What?” Patrick’s hands clench on his book but he doesn’t look offended. Just shocked.

“If people have maybe noticed us not, you know, spending the night together until now and maybe aren’t convinced, Ray walking in on us might calm any whispers.” David hasn’t heard any whispers. Even when Alexis needles him about it she never sounds anything less than convinced.

Patrick marks his page with the book jacket and places it on the bedside table and David follows suit—well, _he_ uses a bookmark, he’s not a monster. He can’t read Patrick’s expression, but he’s not going to apologise and pull back the offer quite yet.

“Okay.” Patrick meets David’s eyes and a beat passes with them just staring at each other and then David tilts his head slightly and Patrick rushes to meet him and suddenly they’re _kissing._ This kiss is nothing like any of their previous ones, instead, it’s hot and heavy from the moment their lips touch, Patrick moving in already slightly open-mouthed. David reaches out to grab Patrick’s bicep, but then Patrick’s moving and— _oh, fuck_ —he’s straddling David’s lap. Not pressed crotch to crotch, but it’s close and would probably look like they were.

Patrick’s mouth is incredible. He’s clearly an experienced kisser and David completely loses all semblance of control and distance the moment Patrick’s tongue licks its way into his mouth. David’s hands, with no conscious effort on his part, skim over Patrick’s back, feeling the warmth and muscles through his thin t-shirt. He just about manages to resist reaching down to grip his ass, but it’s maybe the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Patrick breaks off from David’s mouth and then rubs his face along David’s jaw and _moans._ “Your stubble is really sexy.” His voice is quiet and rough in David’s ear and it’s so hot; Patrick is so hot.

“You like it?” He didn’t mean to ask that, but he can’t regret it because Patrick makes a low hum of pleasure in response and then scrapes his teeth back along David’s jaw before kissing him again. David’s hands clench where they’re sitting on Patrick’s waist, which Patrick seems to take as an invitation because suddenly they’re really pressed together. Patrick’s chest is tight against his and it’s amazing, even through clothes, but there’s no way he can concentrate on that because Patrick’s _hard._

They’ve only been kissing a few minutes but Patrick’s dick is hard and David knows that because it’s pressed against his stomach and holy _fuck._ David makes an undignified noise into Patrick’s mouth and gives up on restraint, reaching down to finally grab a handful of Patrick’s glorious ass and—

“Good night boys!”

David didn’t hear the door open and honestly, he takes a while to process what is even happening other than Patrick’s breaking apart from his mouth and shifting backwards so they aren’t pressing together the same way. It’s then that David can focus enough to realise that Ray is _in the room_.

“Kind of interrupting here, Ray.” Patrick sounds impatient and frustrated and doesn’t look away from David.

“Sorry about that.” Ray doesn’t make any move to leave. “I was just wondering if there was anything else you need? Some sleepytime tea, perhaps?”

“We’re good, Ray.” Patrick does turn to face him, but doesn’t get off David’s lap as he does.

David could actually go for a sleepytime tea, but he’s far too distracted by the line of Patrick’s neck as it’s stretched to say anything.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything!” Ray says cheerfully and walks out, leaving the door wide open.

“Door closed, Ray!” Patrick sounds like he’s said that before.

Ray’s sheepish face appears back in the doorway. “Oops, I always forget that; I guess I’m just not a closed-door person. Have fun!” It’s amazing that it doesn’t sound sleazy at all, coming from him, even directed at people in his and Patrick’s position. Ray closes the door and they hear him walk down the corridor.

They’re both quiet for a bit before Patrick slides off to the side getting back to his side of the bed. “I’d say that worked.”

“Mhm! Yes.” David’s pretty sure that Ray’s appearance should have turned down his arousal a few more notches than it did, but he’s still incredibly turned on.

Patrick shifts in a way that David is sure means he’s trying to adjust his erection without actually touching it and it would be so easy to offer to help him with that. He could just give him a quick blow job and swallow down his come and it would be all neat and tidy like it never happened. Or they could do it boarding school style, both jerking off in the same room while pretending they weren’t watching each other do it. Or—no.

David breaks promises to himself all the time, but he can’t break this one, especially not before Patrick’s parents even get here. Patrick is too important to fuck this up, even if it would be _so good_ in the meantime. So, instead of any of the many vivid concepts running through his head, David slides down to lie in bed properly. He should definitely say something, but he doesn’t know what, so he just plugs his phone into the charger that Patrick had ready for him. There’s a message from Stevie, just the emoji of a pair of eyes, so clearly she’s heard he’s staying over at Patrick’s but no way can he deal with replying to that right now.

“Oh, right, yeah.” Patrick sounds flustered as he shuffles down the bed himself, but David is doing his best not to look at him. His self-control is far too tattered for that right now. They each turn off their lights and lie in the darkness. “Are we okay?” Patrick’s voice is cautious and uncertain in a way David has almost never heard from him.

“Yes! Of course we are.” David gives in to the urge to roll onto his side to face Patrick, who shifts to mirror him.

“I just wasn’t sure if I—took it too far?” It’s dark in the room, but David can still make out the shape of Patrick, can imagine the exact expression on his face.

“I think any blame for that is mutual.” He wants to give Patrick something to reassure him, even if it’s dangerous. “It was easy to get caught up in it.”

“Oh?” There’s that confident, flirty tone that David finds alluring and maddening in equal measure. “Good to know.”

It would be the easiest thing in the world to close the gap between them now. David can feel every millimetre of that distance and how good it would be to get rid of them. “Good night.” David’s not strong enough to turn around, to show his back to Patrick and shut him out, but he can close his eyes and try to relax and pretend he’s not desperately aware of his still-sensitised flesh and how amazing it could feel.

“Good night.”

❄️❄️❄️

In the morning, David tries not to be upset to find that they don’t wake up having tangled together in the night. In his imagination, waking up with Patrick always involves feeling him hard against David’s ass or thigh and lazily rubbing off against each other.

Instead, they’re a bit closer, but only enough that David’s foot is touching Patrick’s calf. Patrick’s sleep pants have somehow bunched up to his knee and David is too close to sleep to convince himself he doesn’t relish that strange and almost illicit skin-to-skin contact. David’s kind of hard, but not in an urgent way, and he doesn’t know if Patrick is because he refuses to look.

“I’ll take first shower.” Patrick’s gone before David even fully realises he was awake, leaving him with the urge to roll into the warmth left on the other side of the bed. David indulges himself in a fantasy of sticking his face in Patrick’s pillow and jerking off quickly, but it’s too pathetic for even him to go through with.

He thinks unsexy thoughts; tax documentation, Alexis’ clothes strewn across the floor, the Cafe Tropical lunchmeat surprise. By the time Patrick comes back—depressingly fully dressed and put together—he’s presentable enough for the walk to the shower.

❄️❄️❄️

The night before Patrick’s parents come, David is lying on his bed scrolling Instagram and trying to ignore whatever crisis Alexis is in the middle of when his father bursts in.

“David! Why didn’t you tell me that Patrick’s parents are going to be staying at the motel?”

David winces. He’s been trying to avoid them finding out about the Brewers coming—in an ideal world, they’d never know, though David’s never been that lucky.

“Um, what! Oh my god, David, that’s so cute for you! Why didn’t you tell us?” On the other hand, Alexis appears to have totally forgotten that she was moping about something, so he’ll take that silver lining.

“I didn’t really see why it was either of your business?”

Johnny laughs. “Well son, considering they’re staying in the motel I’d say it’s _literally_ my business. I mean—my and Stevie’s business.” He frowns like he’s not sure if it’s terribly rude he just claimed ownership of the motel for half a second.

“You have lots of guests, am I supposed to do background checks on all of them?”

“A heads up would be nice, that’s all I’m saying. You and Patrick obviously have a very, um, important relationship and so of course I want to make sure to give them a good experience when they’re staying with us.”

“I’d hope you’d want to show everyone who stayed here a good experience.”

“Who is to be staying with us?” Moira’s dressed for bed when she comes through the adjoining door and immediately heads to her husband’s side. It can’t be more than an hour or two since they last saw each other, but it’s always been like this; David’s parents gravitating to each other after any amount of time spent apart.

“Patrick’s parents are staying at the Rosebud for the holidays!” Johnny sounds like he’s genuinely excited, which is a level of stress that David was not prepared for on top of everything else.

“Oh, how utterly delightful! I rather think it will be a joy to meet the tree from which dear Pat branched.” Moira’s reaction is slightly more expected; she’s been incredibly fond of Patrick ever since he told her she wasn’t on the hook for the death of a motel customer.

“Okay, no to all of this. Yes, Patrick’s parents are coming, but you are _not_ to swarm around them like vultures. Patrick hasn’t seen them in months and will need some time with them.”

“Ugh, David, we’re not _vultures_! It’ll be fun to have a little fam-to-fam time with them. So festive!”

Johnny comes over and claps a hand over David’s shoulder. “I don’t want to embarrass you, David. I’m just looking forward to talking to them and letting them know how amazing this business you’ve built with their son is. And, of course, your romantic relationship, though it’s rather newer, and you know I caution against mixing those aspects of your life.”

David desperately wants to avoid that lecture again, but his brain is also fixating on the first half of that. They’ve worked so hard to make sure the whole town knows they’re ‘dating’ for this ridiculous plan, but David only just realised that that means someone could end up telling them _before_ Patrick does. “You can’t do that.”

“I know, I know, you’re in charge of your own love life—”

“Ew, not that! I mean, yes, that’s true, but I mean you can’t mention our relationship. Patrick isn’t out to his parents yet.”

“Oh no, David! Are you a dirty little secret again?” Alexis looks genuinely upset, which makes it even more annoying.

“No, and also fuck you. He’s going to tell them, but he was waiting to do it in person. And he really doesn’t need someone else telling them before he does.”

“Oh, of course.” Moira’s face is lined with a rare show of genuine concern. “Tell that dear young man of yours that we shall support him regardless, won’t you?”

David suddenly feels choked up. In all of the fake relationship nonsense, he’d lost track of this very real, very big step that Patrick is taking. It’s the whole reason they’re doing this charade, yet they haven’t even really talked about it since the night it first came up. “Of course.”

Johnny pats David’s shoulder a few more times, before pulling away. “Don’t worry, son. I won’t mention anything, um, untoward. Not that your relationship is untoward, of course! I just mean—”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Dad.” Alexis tries to wink at David in that utterly ridiculous way she has. “We got this, David. It’s going to be fine.”

David really hopes so.

❄️❄️❄️

**iMessage:** Patrick (business guy)  
  
**David:** How’re you feeling about your parents arriving?  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Excited and also terrified.  
  
**David:** You know you have people who care about you no matter what happens.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I do. Thank you.  
  
**David:** Can I ask, do you have a plan for the whole coming out thing?  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I want to get it over with, so I figured tomorrow sometime.   
  
**David:** That’s good  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** You think so? Is it one of those “rip off the band-aid” things?  
  
**David:** Maybe? But also I’ve maybe thought of a flaw in the scheme we have going on  
  
**Patrick (business guy):**???  
  
**David:** We live in a small town of gossips who think we’re dating  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Yes, that was pretty much the basis of the whole plan.  
  
**David:** Patrick. We live in a town of gossips who think we’re dating and may well tell your parents that before you get a chance to.   
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Fuck  
  
**David:** I wasn’t aware you knew that word  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I must have learned it from you.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** And I save it for special occasions.   
  
**David:** Sorry if this puts pressure on you. Coming out is a thing that should only be done when you’re ready, on your own terms.   
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I am ready and I want to. Maybe it’s good to have something to stop me chickening out.  
  
**David:** If you decided not to come out that would in no way be chickening out. We’d figure something out.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Like what?  
  
**David:** Well, I did tell my family you aren’t out? I think my Dad was planning some sort of welcome speech when they check-in and I didn’t want him to say something. So that might spread around the town anyway and maybe people won’t blab?  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Are you suggesting we get the whole town to pretend we’re not in a relationship, which they think we are even though we aren’t, after ten days of convincing them it’s real?   
  
**David:** It sounds almost Shakespearean when you put it like that  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I’m not sure those sort of plots work out very well in his plays.  
  
**David:** If it’s a farce everyone’s happy after it explodes at least, so we have that to look forward to.   
  
**Patrick (business guy):** So what you’re saying is…. all’s well that ends well?  
  
**David:** Maybe this won’t be a problem because actually I’ll fake break up with you before your parents get here.  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** As long as it’s only a fake break up.  
  
**David:** Seriously, though. Whatever you need. My mother even told me to tell you that my whole family is here for you  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** That is very sweet  
  
**David:** I guess 🙄  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I’m going to do it though. I’m going to come out to my parents.   
  
**David:** As long as you’re sure  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I am  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Besides, Ray’s way too excited to meet them and I probably should have realised earlier that he will absolutely blab within five minutes.   
  
**David:** You think he’d last that long?   
  
**Patrick (business guy):** Exactly. Thank you so much for catching this.   
  
**David:** Like I said, whatever you need  
  
**Patrick (business guy):** I just… What do I do if they’re angry?  
  
**David:** You come to me and I’ll be there for you  
  
**David:** And Stevie, I guess, but I suspect her version of being there for you may cause liver damage  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Patrick wakes up early the day his parents are due to arrive; he just can’t shut his brain off. As soon as dawn starts approaching he bundles up and heads out for a walk. He’s a mess of anticipation, anxiety and hope all jangling through his body at the same time. He’s going to do this. He has, somewhat inadvertently, engineered a scenario in which he _has_ to do this.

He appreciates that David realised the risk of their ‘make everyone in town think they’re dating’ plan. It’s the sort of thing Patrick _would_ have caught if he'd allowed himself to actually consider the ramifications before diving in headfirst. Instead, it had felt like when he broke up with Rachel and left his hometown with no plan whatsoever. Like following his instincts.

Except… well. He doesn’t regret that, even if he wishes it could have happened differently, but he thinks this impulse was less ‘this isn’t right, you can’t keep this up’ and more ‘if you do this you could kiss him and touch him and stare at him all you want’. Patrick’s heard people talking about thinking with their dick plenty of times, but he never truly got it before.

A whisper in the back of his head says that it’s not just that; it’s a bigger, more all-encompassing feeling than simple physical attraction that’s making him so reckless for a hint of what being with David would be like. Patrick thinks that whisper needs to shut up. No way he can deal with _that_ when his parents are already in the car heading to Schitt’s Creek.

It’s cold, but in a way that makes Patrick feel more alive and connected to his body. He’d have preferred to be able to go for a proper hike, but the risk of falling on a patch of ice is too much this time of year. The town is still beautiful, though, and it’s reassuring to walk around and remember that he has a life and a home here, one that will remain whatever happens with his family.

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick arrives at the Rosebud Motel a full hour before his parents are due to be there. A combination of not wanting to deal with Ray, and knowing full well that his parents consider on time to be late, means he couldn’t make himself wait any longer. He’d considered spending some time in the store, but his nervous energy would probably put off the customers.

Patrick hasn’t actually been to the motel that many times, which is maybe strange considering his two closest friends in this town either live or work there. On the other hand, he suspects that is exactly why they both want to limit their time there if at all possible. He’s relieved that Stevie’s the only one in the office when he arrives.

“Your parents haven’t shown yet.” Her tone is casual, but he thinks he can sense a touch of nerves for him in there. It’s nice.

Patrick nods. “They said they’d be here at midday, which probably means closer to eleven-thirty, but I ran out of distractions.”

“How do you feel about sudoku?”

“Positive”—Patrick had got really into them for a while, but hasn’t actually attempted one in years—“but rusty.”

Stevie gestures him over behind the desk so he can see the sudoku window open on her desktop. It partially obscures a game of solitaire, with only a thin sliver of a spreadsheet—presumably _actually_ related to Stevie’s work—under that.

He takes a moment to look at the puzzle and remember how it works and then points out a number not yet filled in. They work together in silence for a bit, before Patrick brings himself to speak. “Do you think this whole thing with David is stupid?” Yeah, it was her idea, but she wasn’t exactly of sound mind at the time.

The only sign that Stevie has heard him is that she tilts her head. Patrick knows she’s considering what to say, so he goes back to trying to untangle a column that only has two spaces left.

“I think that it’s stupid, but if it’s what you need to move forward then it can be okay to do something dumb. I worry it’ll blow up and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces, but there was always a chance that would happen eventually.”

Patrick purses his mouth. “You mean, if my parents find out it’s a lie?”

Stevie’s expression is sardonic; Patrick suspects he’s totally exposed in the face of it. “Sure.”

They both know it’s not what she means, which is mildly terrifying. He’s been attempting to convince himself she doesn’t know about his feelings for David, but that’s clearly wrong. “It was your idea, you know.”

Stevie’s mouth tilts into her mischievous pixie grin. “Was it?”

It breaks the tension that had risen and Patrick has to laugh. Trust Stevie to not be able to keep things serious for more than a minute. Not that Patrick’s really one to judge on that subject. It’s part of why they get on so well; with each other and with David.

They go back to the sudoku. Working out the options and then narrowing it down is exactly the sort of consuming and methodical task Patrick needs. It’s exhilarating when they get to the point where they get the last difficult one and the last few numbers slide in easily. When they’re finished, Patrick cheers and pulls Stevie in for a tight hug, which is of course when his parents walk through the door.

He tries not to look like he was caught doing something as he lets go of Stevie and steps back. It’s ridiculous, considering he really _wasn’t_ doing anything he wouldn’t want them to know about, but there’s something in his parents’ expressions that makes him want to grind his teeth.

“Patrick! We didn’t expect to see you yet.” His mother sounds so pleased that Patrick has to give up on defensiveness and walk around the counter to give her a hug.

“David’s watching the store and I didn’t want to wait longer than I had to before I saw you.” It’s not the whole truth, but it seems to make them happy.

He gives his Dad a hug and then turns back to the desk, where Stevie is awkwardly pretending she’s not watching them. “Stevie, meet my parents, Clint and Marcy Brewer. Mom and Dad, this is my friend Stevie; she owns the motel.” It’s a difficult balancing act, trying to make clear that they are only friends without landing in the realms of protesting too much. “You walked in just as we finished a sudoku puzzle.”

As expected, his mother’s eyes light up. “Oh, I _love_ those. Have you tried thermo sudokus? They’re my current favourite.”

Clint rolls his eyes fondly. “I think what my wife means to say is, it’s lovely to meet you, Stevie. It’s good to know Patrick has friends here.” His eyes glint. “Now don’t think just because we’re your customers you have to indulge her puzzle obsession. Just pretend you’re busy and she’ll lay off.”

Marcy laughs and swats at him. “Don’t you listen to Clint, he thinks he’s funny.”

Stevie’s smile is awkward and nervous in a way that Patrick’s never seen from her. It suddenly occurs to him that he really knows nothing about her family, just that she had an aunt that died and left her the motel earlier this year. “Heh, no worries. I’ll have to look up those puzzles, I haven’t heard of them.” Her voice probably sounds normal to Patrick’s parents, but to him, it’s not quite right. “Shall I get you checked in?”

Just as they’re finishing that, Johnny Rose comes in. He looks from Patrick to his parents, eyes wide and screaming out ‘I’m hiding something’ as he greets them. “You must be Patrick’s parents! I’m Johnny Rose, I run this motel with Stevie.”

Patrick’s parents smile and introduce themselves while Patrick experiences a huge surge of adrenaline. Clint shakes Johnny’s hand. “You must be David’s father.”

Johnny nods, an exaggerated motion. “That’s right, that’s right. Yes, David and Patrick have really made something special—the store, I mean. I’m very proud.”

Marcy gives Patrick a smile. “We are, too. I can’t wait to see it, finally!”

“I was thinking we could head there this afternoon, actually. David’s working, but I like to see how things are going.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “I’m not surprised you’re still a workaholic.” He gives Johnny a sly look. “He tell you he worked at Rose Video when he was a kid?”

Johnny’s eyebrows almost jump off his face. “He did not, that’s brilliant.”

“Branch seven-eighty-five.” Patrick shrugs. He’s been holding on to that one for when he could surprise David with it, but it’s still fun to see Johnny’s shock.

“Impressive late fees.” Johnny nods meaningfully and Patrick has no doubt he genuinely remembers that. It’s easy to forget sometimes, what an impressive businessman he had been for so long.

“My parent’s probably want to get settled in their room, so…” Patrick picks up one of their bags and gestures at the door and Johnny steps aside to let them go. His parents’ room is in the opposite direction of the Roses’. There’s still adrenaline rushing through him and he can’t stand it; he feels like he should be playing hockey—his whole body primed to hop over the boards and take a shift on the ice—not having a conversation. He had a whole plan to let them settle in and then take them to lunch and tell them, but he needs to do it now.

“We have to talk about something.” His voice comes out a bit too loud and harsh and his parents immediately look concerned. How is this already going so wrong? “It’s nothing bad—or, I think it’s actually something good. I hope you will, too.”

Their concern clears. “Is it about that nice girl at check-in?” His father’s eyes have a teasing spark, but it’s extinguished half a moment later when he sees Patrick’s face.

He doesn’t know what his face looks like, he’s too distracted by a wave of nausea, but the concern comes back full force. He needs to get this back on track. “Can we sit down?”

There’s a little table with chairs around it and there’s even a vase of flowers in the middle. Patrick hasn’t seen that in David’s room.

Once they’re seated around the table, Marcy reaches out and grasps Patrick’s hand. “We’re listening, sweetie.”

Patrick has to suck in a breath to keep from crying. He can do this. He has to do this. He _wants_ to do this. “Mom, Dad, I’m—” God this is pathetic, he can’t even say it. But he gave himself another way through this, he knew he’d feel like this and his friends helped him have another way to say it. “So, this isn’t about Stevie, but I am seeing someone.” Why does this lie feel so much easier and more right than any other way to say this? “It’s David, from the store.” He needs to add more, he needs them to know this is a good thing. “And I’m really happy. And I hope you can accept that.”

Clint’s hand goes over his mouth and Marcy freezes for a moment. They’re surprised, that’s exactly what he expected to see, so he tries not to panic until he sees what their second reaction is. There’s a pause that lasts an era and then his mom squeezes his hand; he'd forgotten she was still holding it. “Of course we can accept that, honey. You’re the only thing in the world that matters to us.”

Patrick’s heart pounds and he feels an intense rush of gratitude, but he can see that his father’s about to speak and he won’t be able to relax until that has happened. “If you’re happy, that’s the only thing that matters.”

Patrick thinks about his life. About running the store and the friends he has made and David. He does feel a squeeze of guilt for lying to his parents, but he’s absolutely telling the truth in what he says next. “I’m so happy—David makes me _so happy_.”

“Oh, my sweet boy.” Marcy manages to get up and around the table to hug Patrick without ever letting go of his hand. “I’m so sorry if we made you feel like you couldn’t tell us this.”

Patrick shakes his head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t—I really just… didn’t know. Not until after I moved here.”

“Oh, son. We love you so much.” Clint’s got a tear in his eye and that sends a brief jolt of panic through Patrick before his dad continues. “I’m so sorry you weren’t able to realise this sooner.”

He gestures and his Dad joins the hug and Patrick feels freer than he has in a long time. He’s still got nerves, because this reaction is everything he hoped for but—he wants them to see it. It’s maybe childish, and he almost certainly would be better off calling off the whole fake-dating part of this coming out story, but he won’t. He wants his parents to see him happy with a man. He wants—he _needs_ to know that this isn’t something they’re going to accept in theory but not in reality. He didn’t even realise until this moment how strongly he felt this, but now it’s an imperative.

“Do you want to go to the store?”

❄️❄️❄️

**iMessage:** Stevie and the Buds  
  
 **Patrick:** I told them. They were good. Heading over to the store in a minute.  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** Congratulations, that’s awesome.  
David  
 **David:** I’m so glad. See you soon.  
  
**Patrick:** Texting during work hours, David?  
David  
 **David:** I wanted to know how it went, so sue me  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** I mean, I’m also texting during work hours  
David  
 **David:** Would we call what you do ‘work’  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** 🖕  
  
**Patrick:** So lucky I get to witness this beautiful friendship

❄️❄️❄️

David’s talking to a customer when they arrive, which is great because it paints a picture for Patrick’s parents of a thriving business, but terrible because he’d had a very clear image in his mind of how this would all go. He’d arrive and give David a kiss on the cheek and put an arm around his waist and introduce everyone. Instead, David gives him a smile over the customer’s shoulder that makes nerves dance in Patrick’s stomach, but he keeps talking to them.

David’s wearing one of his more modest outfits, black jeans and a black sweater with white stripes, and Patrick pushes down his strange surge of disappointment. Even so, there’s something about the way he holds himself, how put together he is, that’s like no one else. Patrick carefully watches his parents to try and see what they think of him, but their expressions don’t reveal anything.

He takes the time to show his parents around the store instead. Gratifyingly, they seem genuinely impressed. He talks them through the skincare products and his nerves prick with strange excitement when he explains why his Dad should really at least use something with some UV protection.

He knows, factually, there’s nothing ‘gay’ or effeminate about looking after your skin, but he grew up with years of that message. Never at home, not explicitly, but half the boys on his baseball team refused to even both with sunscreen on the hottest day of the year. Patrick had no idea he’d been avoiding mentioning his skincare routine to his parents, who he usually talks to in the morning or evening, just before or after he does it. Going through the products now, he realises he’s made sure to never say ‘I have to put you on speaker while I apply my meadowfoam carrot extract serum’ or anything like it. It feels good to let that go.

When the customer leaves, David looks uncertain as to whether he should be coming out from behind the check-out desk or not. Patrick gestures him over and goes in for the cheek kiss and the arm around the waist that he’d planned as he does the introductions. David ducks his head a little, a small smile curving his mouth, and Patrick revels in it. His confidence in this plan blooms, glad his parents are seeing them together like this; glad they’re seeing what this _means_ , not just hearing it.

Clint and Marcy insist on buying a bunch of products. Patrick points out that they’re here for a week, so they don’t need to do this now, they have time to decide if they want anything, but they ignore him. David insists on being the one to check them out, because Patrick’s got the day off.

Just as David hands Marcy the receipt, the bell above the door rings announcing the entrance of Alexis.

She totters over to the counter, a larger than life force who looks like she belongs on TV. Patrick never really thinks about her appearance, but like with David, he now can’t help but wonder what his parents are seeing. “Hi Brewers! I’m Alexis.” She cocks her hip as she points to the ‘A’ on her necklace and turns to her brother. “David, I’m here to cover the store so you can go to lunch with Patrick’s adorable parents.”

David grits his teeth slightly, but hesitates to speak, so Patrick intervenes. “Mom, Dad, Alexis is David’s sister. Alexis, that’s very sweet of you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“Um, duh, Patrick, I know I don’t _have_ to do anything.” She picks up a lip balm and opens it. “Mrs Brewer, I bet you’re just _dying_ to get to know my brother, right?”

Marcy smiles softly at Patrick. “It would be nice to get to know David a bit more.” She turns to him. “Would you please join us for lunch?”

There’s no way they can deny that request, so they head over to the cafe together. Patrick puts his arm around David and, while they’re slightly ahead of his parents, whispers, “Is this okay? I can make up some reason you need to go.”

David shakes his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I just wasn’t expecting it _quite_ this quickly.”

“Stevie probably talked to Alexis.”

“Ugh, those little—” They reach the cafe before David can finish whatever that thought was, with Patrick’s parents catching up as they open the door.

Twyla waves and smiles brightly from behind the counter. Feeling so welcome in this town is still new enough that Patrick relishes it as he guides his parents over to a booth. He pulls David to sit next to him and it feels so right that it hurts in the part of himself that knows this plan is going to bite him in the ass when it’s over.

Right now, however, he just came out to his parents and they seem happy for him and they’re meeting someone incredible who means a lot to Patrick. Anything else is a problem for later.

It goes surprisingly well. David’s maybe laying on his customer-service-charm a bit thickly, but Patrick knows that happens sometimes when he’s nervous. They settle into the conversation easily. A number of people come over throughout the meal—Patrick’s shocked how many of the townies seem to care enough to meet his parents, but he guesses there’s not that much interesting in a small town.

Jocelyn Schitt even appears and makes plans to meet up and chat with Clint and Marcy sometime in the week when Patrick's working once the school break starts. After she leaves, Patrick mentions that her husband’s the mayor and his parents seem impressed. He doesn’t contradict them, even though the idea of knowing Roland being prestigious is ridiculous.

Patrick’s proud of the store and the place it has in the community, but he usually attributes that more to David than to himself. It’s makes him want to sit a bit taller to feel like maybe he’s more a part of it than he thought. Having his parents see that as well is even better.

❄️❄️❄️

The store is closed on Mondays, which means it’s the only day Patrick and David have completely free until Christmas day. Well, completely free for certain values, that would usually involve some restocking, but that should only take an hour or so. Patrick wakes up way too early once again, so he has it all sorted before the time he’s arranged to be at the Rosebud to pick up his parents.

He decides to walk, enjoying the crunch of the light dusting of snow under his feet. To his surprise, when he gets to the motel he’s fairly sure he hears his mom’s laugh coming from the office. Sure enough, when he enters he finds his parents talking and laughing with Johnny and Moira Rose.

“Patrick! Have you tried these cinnamon rolls?” His mom gestures with her half-eaten pastry as she talks. “They’re amazing!”

“I actually never have.” He’s heard plenty about them from David, but there’s never been any reason for him to be at the Motel this early in the day.

“ _Pat_ rick! Well isn’t that a _dreadful_ state of affairs, you simply must sample one.” Moira Rose looks genuinely distressed at the thought and it’s unexpectedly touching from her.

“If you insist.” Patrick grabs one of the rolls from the box—still slightly warm—and takes a bite. It’s very good. He hasn’t had a cinnamon roll in ages but he thinks now he should find more reasons to be at the Motel in the mornings. The thought sets of the part of his brain that is now always thinking about David and if their relationship could turn romantic. _This is what you could have if this were real_ , it whispers, which it really isn’t the time for. “It’s brilliant.”

Johnny beams proudly. “Ivan’s an excellent baker. Bob tried to get me to hire him to start a bagel place, a while ago, but while that was never on the cards I’m glad I’ve been able to employ him in some way.”

“Oh, you were planning to open a bagel place in Schitt’s Creek?” Patrick’s never heard about this before.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise dramatically. “No, no, Bob just thought I was.”

Patrick nods like that makes any sense and catches a hint of amusement in his own father’s eyes. “Anyway, we should probably head out.”

“Is David not joining us?” Marcy looks concerned, like maybe this means David’s ill. “I thought the store was closed today.”

“Oh, he’s just not much of a morning person.” Patrick perhaps should have thought this through a bit more, but he hadn’t wanted to force David into joining his family for all their seasonal activities.

Before anyone else can speak, David walks in dressed more appropriately for the season than Patrick’s used to. “Oh good, you’re still here!” He’s smiling brightly and Patrick feels a bit more dazzled by it before he remembers he’s allowed to follow his instincts now.

He heads right over to hug David. Sadly, his scarf-covered neck isn’t accessible for Patrick to drop a kiss onto, but David kisses him on the cheek so it’s still a win. “I didn’t realise you were joining us?” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he asks.

David tenses. “You mentioned it yesterday, was I not supposed to?”

Patrick’s very aware of the other people in the room. “No, it’s great if you want to. I just don’t want to take advantage.”

David huffs. “Stop worrying about that.”

When Patrick finally pulls away everyone is trying to act like they weren’t watching except Moira, who raises an eyebrow. “My goodness, I’m not sure I can recall when I last saw my David rise so early.”

David rolls his eyes. “I open the store one day a week, so it’s not that unusual.” His eyes dart to Patrick’s parents, seemingly embarrassed, and Patrick darts forward to grab him a cinnamon roll, because that’s something he knows will cheer David up. Sure enough, David smiles softly the way he does when Patrick brings his coffee order and takes the roll.

Patrick wraps an arm around his waist, hoping it’s welcome, and turns back to their collected parents. “The wonderful news is that David _is_ joining us, but we really should get going.”

Johnny holds up a hand. “Just before you go, I wanted to say I’ve talked to Stevie and looked at the schedule and she said she’d be happy to look after the store for a few shifts this week, so you all can spend some time together. And I may not have worked retail in a while, but I’m sure I could help if needed.”

It’s very sweet, although it puts rather more strain on the whole fake-relationship thing than expected.

“Stevie agreed to this?” David sounds disbelieving and Patrick can’t blame him for it, though her side might be an attempt to troll them as much as it is a display of generosity.

Johnny nods. “Yes, of course!”

“That’s very generous of you both, Mr. Rose. We’ll talk to her and see what we can figure out.” Patrick chooses to ignore the idea of Johnny himself covering a shift—he can’t imagine him getting on well with the till without a lot of handholding, but has no desire to actually tell him this.

“Yes, that’s really kind, Johnny. It’s important to us to get a chance to know your son while we’re here.” Clint claps Johnny on the shoulder and his eyes almost misty, which sets Patrick on edge. There was some of that yesterday, but he hoped they were past the excessive emotions stage of this trip once he’d come out.

They finally manage to get to the car. When they’d planned the trip it had been decided Patrick would travel with his parents, but the idea seems a lot stranger now it’s both him and David getting into the back seat of his parents’ car. The twenty-minute drive is spent in a combination of small talk and David and Patrick texting with Stevie. There’s also a stop at the only drive-through coffee place in Elm County, for which Patrick is grateful for David’s sake.

**iMessage:** Stevie and the Buds  
  
David  
 **David:** Stevie apparently you're planning to cover some shifts at the store this week? And I learned this from MY DAD instead of from you?  
  
**Patrick:** Well don't forget your dad wants to cover some shifts, too.  
David  
 **David:** Oh god don’t remind me  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** 🤣🤣🤣  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** But seriously, he came up with the idea and asked me, what was I supposed to do?  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** I think he feels bad about David hiding a relationship from him 😬  
David  
 **David:** Oh god as I haven’t done my best to hide my relationships from him for decades  
  
**Patrick:** Crap, sorry David. I don’t want to make your dad feel bad  
David  
 **David:** Could everyone just CHILL   
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** Said no chill person ever  
David  
 **David:** Maybe I’d be a chill person if those around me weren’t so annoying  
  
**Patrick:** Would you, though?  
David  
 **David:** We’re arriving. Stevie, we’ll talk about store stuff later.  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** Wait, have you two just been texting me/each other in the back of Patrick’s parents car? That’s fucking adorable  
David  
 **David:** Well obviously, because we’re an adorable couple, Twyla told me so  
  
**Patrick:** She did?  
David  
 **David:** It’s rude to text with other people around  
Stevie  
 **Stevie:** I like this for you guys   
David  
 **David:** 🖕

❄️❄️❄️

As Ray's agnostic and won't be in town on Christmas day, he doesn’t bother with decorations himself, despite running the local tree farm. Once he heard Patrick’s parents were coming, however, he’d insisted that Patrick decorate their house for the season, so they’re in a large barn full of pines.

David’s looking around with thinly veiled suspicion. The plan is to pick a tree and then grab a breakfast more substantial than cinnamon rolls, but Patrick’s feeling like maybe he should have swapped that once he realised David was joining them.

“So, how does this all work? I’ve never been to one of these before.”

“Oh, did your family have artificial trees?” Clint looks nervous when David laughs in response. “Or—I mean, does your family celebrate Christmas or another holiday?”

David smiles and waves off the concern. “Sorry for laughing—I’m a delightful half-half mix so we did a bit of Hanukkah, a lot of Christmas. I just can’t imagine my mother allowing an artificial tree into our house. I don’t know exactly who procured our trees, but my favourite was the year we had a twenty-two-foot Norwegian pine.”

Patrick’s parents both look a bit shell-shocked at the idea and he drops a kiss on David’s cheek, feeling a defensive urge in the face of their reaction, though he’s similar ones plenty of times in the past. “So sorry we don’t have that level of ceiling space this year.” Patrick isn’t actually sure he can imagine how large a room would have to be to fit a tree that big.

David rolls his eyes. “I don’t; it’s nice to get to pick it out and not have to worry about protesters as we bring it home.”

Marcy blinks, but smiles warmly and Patrick feels a rush of warmth towards her. “Well, let’s hope not!” Her eyes sparkle. “So the way this works is simple, we just decide which tree we want and buy it! It’s on us, so you and Patrick feel free to choose whatever you want.”

It’s a nice gesture and something about the idea of this being a choice for him and David to make together makes a mixture of excitement and longing claw at Patrick’s chest. Before he can insist that he’ll be the one to pay, Ray appears from behind a tree wearing a Christmas elf costume.

“The Brewer family! And David Rose, too, what a treat. Patrick told me you’d be coming this morning and I have been _so_ excited to meet you! Please help yourself to some refreshments.” He gestures to a table with a pot of hot apple cider and plastic cups. “It’s just two dollars a cup!”

Patrick tries not to laugh at Ray telling them to help themselves to something they’d be paying for. “Mom, Dad, this is my landlord, Ray. Ray, this is Clint and Marcy Brewer, my parents.”

Ray flicks his hand. “I prefer to think of us as roomies, you know that, Patrick! So nice to _finally_ have you visiting.”

Patrick winces at that phrasing and decides to get a round of ciders while Ray talks to his parents enthusiastically. David comes over and, to Patrick’s surprise, drapes his arms over Patrick’s shoulders as he fills the cups.

“You okay?” The concern in David’s quiet voice is sweet.

“I’m great.” Patrick tells himself that Ray and his parents might be watching and that’s why he turns around and pulls David in for a brief closed-mouthed kiss. His hands settle on David’s waist. He squeezes once before stepping away and grabbing two drinks. “Shall we pick a tree?”

David grabs the other two drinks and nods. They each hand a cup to one of Patrick’s parents, now deep in a discussion with Ray about how he feels about running a seasonal business, and turn to the trees. There aren’t as many as there were at the tree farms Patrick grew up going to, but the selection’s not too bad, even with only five days until Christmas.

“Spot any you like?” David assessing gaze slides over the room, obviously trying to make sure they get the best tree there is.

Patrick’s tucks his free hand into his pocket and doesn’t expect it when David slips a hand through his elbow. David’s smooth with the move, but he gives Patrick a ‘this okay?’ look and he can’t help but grin full-out in response. Rachel used to do this, but it’s different with someone taller than him. He likes it a lot.

“I thought I was just the numbers guys, surely this is an aesthetic decision?”

David scowls playfully. “This isn’t for the store, where you seemingly had _no_ problem sharing your opinions on our decor. You should choose.”

Patrick smiles, remembering the day he and David hashed out the plan for holiday decorations. Patrick pushed to have somewhat more than David wanted and is still rather proud he managed to convince him about the glittery stars now stuck to the walls and windows. “What about this?” He gestures to a sad half-dead looking tree. “It would go perfectly with those ornaments Ray’s selling.”

David winces at the tree, but when he spots the table with a selection of ornaments featuring Ray’s face he does a full-on double-take. “Oh dear god.”

Patrick can’t hold back his laugh at the look of horror on David’s face. “But you said I should choose.”

David glares at him, but doesn’t remove the hand from the crook of Patrick’s elbow. “I know that you’re trying to goad me here, but the tree is going in Ray’s house so I assume you’re going to have to put some of those on it. And you’re the one who will live with it.”

Patrick winces at the truth of that, but he knows how happy it'll make Ray to see his ornaments on the tree, so he'll do it. “Fine, you make a good point.” He scans over the trees, looking for one of the smaller end, and tightens his elbow to pull David along to assess the options.

Patrick’s parents rejoin them as he’s wavering between two. It seems like a bigger choice than it should be and he really does need David’s input. “Which should I go for?”

David’s mouth purses in the way that means he’s considering something seriously. “They’re both well-shaped, but the green of that one is slightly closer to the shade of your baseball costume?”

Patrick’s mouth quirks at David’s refusal to learn sports terminology, but he spots a similar amusement on his parents’ faces and he doesn’t like that. It’s not mocking, no more than he is, and yet there’s something about it that makes him feel itchy and uncomfortable and want to defend David. “I do wish I had your eye for colour.”

David looks confused not to be teased, but shrugs. “I may not choose to wear it often, but I still know what works.”

Marcy smiles. “I wish I were more like that! Poor Patrick inherited his lack of style from us.”

It’s the sort of joke that Patrick would have laughed along with without thinking before, and he tries, but it’s hard. A part of him can’t help but dwell on the idea; he didn’t even know ‘having style’ was an option available to him, his parents certainly never indicated it could be. If he’d shown an interest, probably they’d have been supportive, but he’s starting to wonder if he ever showed an interest in something his parents didn’t show support of in advance before he moved here.

“I’m lucky that David’s been willing to teach me so many things.” Patrick only realises once he’s said it that could be taken suggestively and he’s pretty sure he’s blushing, but he also feels a competitive ping of satisfaction at the surprise passing over his parents’ faces. “I’ll go with the tree you said, David. Maybe I can even incorporate my baseball _costume_ into it somehow.”

David laughs, looking more on solid ground now Patrick’s back to teasing. “I think that’s a sign you still have a lot to learn.” His tone isn’t at all suggestive but arousal jolts through Patrick regardless.

They manage to get through buying the trees (and, yes, some ornaments) fairly easily, with only another ten minutes of chatting to Ray. Patrick and Clint get the tree strapped to the top of the car easily enough, something they’ve done together for years. He can’t help but note that his mother’s not involved. One of so many things in his life he’d never noticed before that he's now distinctly aware of.

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick’s parents brought some of their spare decorations with them, so after brunch at the cafe and getting the tree set up Patrick brings the boxes into the living room and sits on the floor with them. David eyes the set-up suspiciously but crouches down next to him. For a moment, Patrick’s distracted by the way the squat highlights the muscles in his thighs, but David goes straight for looking into the boxes.

“This selection is very… chaotic.” It’s clear that David’s actually trying to be polite and it’s adorable how bad at it he is.

“It really is.” Patrick digs through the boxes, finding a bunch of ornaments he didn’t realise his parents even still had. “They decorated at their house already, even though they’re here for the holiday itself, so this is all the stuff that they had leftover. So most of it is pretty old or out of date.”

David looks relieved. “Oh! Right. Well, I’m sure there are some buried gems in here.” His tone isn’t as confident as the words are, but he starts pulling out items and sorting them into piles.

Patrick decides to just watch him, trying to figure out what his plan is. He definitely can’t tell what each pile means until David pulls out a Christmas themed troll doll with a look of sheer disgust on his face and immediately drops it on the far left.

“I assume that’s the definitely yes pile?” Patrick asks, gesturing to the doll, whose matted hair is made all the more obvious by the sparkly strands running through it.

David’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “Fuck, sorry, I just started doing this I didn’t even ask you.” He looks at the pile to his left. “Do you, um… Do you want that to be the yes pile?”

Patrick has never seen David try so hard to hide his judgement, even when the people he’s judging are their customers, so he can’t help push it a bit further. “Well, you know, I thought it must be, since you put Gertrude over there.”

“Gertrude?”

Patrick nods, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Gertrude Claus, the troll cousin of Santa. She’s very important to me.”

David looks down at the troll with palpable discomfort in his eyes. “I… see.” He meets Patrick’s eyes again just as he feels his smile break though, fully grinning when David gasps. “Wait, you little asshole, you’re trolling me!”

Patrick can’t help it, he starts laughing so hard it almost hurts. David’s dimple belies the fact he’s amused, too, but he’s trying to look annoyed. It may well be Patrick’s favourite expression from David’s vast catalogue of them, but even looking at that isn’t enough to stop him laughing completely.

“It’s not _that_ funny, you know.” David seems like he’s running out of patience, but—

“ _Trolling_ you!” Patrick can barely get it out before he’s laughing again and David looks even more horrified than when he saw the doll in the first place. Patrick almost wishes his parents were in the room so he’d have an excuse to kiss that expression off his face. In lieu of that, he calms himself down and sets a hand on David’s thigh. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You’re the one who made it a pun.”

David rolls his eyes, but his dimple’s back. “I will take no responsibility whatsoever for the pun, thank you very much! That was all you.”

“Whatever you say.” Patrick has learned this is one of the most annoying things he can say to David, because it doesn’t leave him any room to argue more, while also implying he’s wrong.

“Hmph, if you don’t want my _expert_ opinion on your decor, I can just head back to the Motel, you know.”

“No!” Patrick’s hand clenches where it's still resting on David’s thigh. “I mean, uh, please stay? I clearly need all the help I can get.”

They get to work on sorting the rest of the ornaments together and just finish when Patrick’s parents enter the room carrying steaming mugs of cocoa.

Despite David grumbling that he’s done better, the tree ends up looking pretty good. The ornaments are jumbled, but there were some really nice ones in that box and the lights cast a festive glow over everything. Patrick insisted the ornament of Ray’s face go front and centre, just to annoy David, but mixed in with the rest it’s almost sweet.

❄️❄️❄️

Tuesday is mostly pretty low-key. Patrick and David both work in the store all morning and then take Marcy and Clint to a couple of their partner farms in the afternoon.

The evening’s activity, however, is decided for them when they get back to the motel and Moira appears out of nowhere to announce they’re all having dinner together. They have a bit of time to freshen up before the meal and Patrick leaves them all to head back to Ray’s and change.

He spends his time in the shower wondering what he should wear. A large part of him says that he should dress smartly, wear the blazer in the back of his closet that he hasn’t looked at since he wimped out on wearing it—and on bringing a gift—on David’s birthday. Clearly, avoiding it had been the right call back then, as David had invited Stevie to join them, so it’s probably right to leave it there.

The other option is something that feels a lot more outlandish than it really should. It’s a shirt and jeans he only recently purchased and hasn't worn. He wonders if maybe it will be too much for his parents. They’ve continued being outwardly supportive—in that they haven’t really talked about Patrick’s sexuality at all. Not that he knows what he would want them to say, but it still feels like there's a disconnect, especially at the tree farm when he caught their looks of surprise and that they found David unusual.

David _is_ unusual, not like any other person Patrick has ever met, but he feels a fierce protectiveness towards him. Even if it is Patrick’s parents he wants to protect him from. Before they parted last night, his Dad had said that he liked David, but he didn’t understand his clothes. Patrick had laughed along with him but the words just keep echoing around his head.

Patrick is sometimes caught unaware by David’s clothes, sometimes finds the slogans funny, or the cuts surprising, but they make sense. David’s clothes are an extension of David and Patrick cannot claim to know every part of him—much as he’d like to—but the clothes help him make sense of David. It’s all clues into how David’s feeling, how he wants to be feeling, how he wants to be seen or avoided.

Patrick’s going to wear the new outfit.

❄️❄️❄️

It’s very clear that the Roses are trying to impress Patrick’s parents because when he arrives at Cafe Tropical at exactly the time they said they’d meet there—which is later than Patrick would prefer, but he was mildly panicking during his buffer time—he’s the last one to arrive.

They’ve pulled a could of tables together in the corner and all cheer when he walks in, making him even more self-conscious, even though he’s still wearing his thick winter outerwear. There’s a chair for him left open, right next to David. One of the nicest things about this whole fake-dating scenario is that Patrick no longer needs to put any effort in to be near David as much as possible, it’s just assumed it will be the case.

Luckily, they get back into their conversations quickly, so Patrick isn’t quite so on display once he finally gets his toque, scarf, gloves, and coat off, but David is definitely watching and the response is very gratifying. What Patrick is wearing isn’t really different from what he normally wears, a button-up shirt and jeans, but everything is distinctly _tighter_ than he usually goes for. The cuffs on the short sleeves almost dig into his biceps.

He can see David eyeing up the outfit before his eyes dart to Patrick’s parents and he keeps quiet. Stevie, sitting on his other side, has no such qualms.

“Did your shirt shrink in the wash?”

Patrick rolls his eyes and takes his seat, trying not to be self-conscious, while also very aware of his parents’ attention turning towards him. “Thanks so much. I just thought it would be nice to wear something new for dinner.”

He had actually bought this in the hopes that one day he’d go on an actual date with someone who didn’t bring along their best friend. Sitting here feeling incredibly exposed he deeply questions the part of himself that couldn’t let go og the idea of wearing it today. It feels competitive, but he’s not fully sure what the competition is.

“It’s very nice, Patrick.” Marcy smiles as she speaks, but there’s just a hint of uncertainty in her eyes that shoots a thread of satisfaction through Patrick.

Right. That’s what it is. Patrick should definitely try and work through that feeling, but instead, he leans into it. “And what do you think, David?” His tone is just on the line of too suggestive for a family dinner.

“You look—very nice.” David’s obviously flustered and Patrick doesn’t resist the urge to lean in for a brief kiss; they hadn’t kissed hello, after all.

“I hoped you’d think so.” Patrick holds David’s eye contact for a few intense seconds, before looking away to jump into another conversation. He’s very aware of the looks on his parents’ faces, even if he isn’t sure he knows how to read them.

The rest of the meal is nice, though Patrick can’t help flirting more with David. Mostly just because he relishes being able to do so without second-guessing himself, but also because he's so constantly aware of his parents’ eyes on him. David’s parents don’t seem to notice at all, unless it’s to smile fondly at him. Alexis chastises David for being gross when he flirts back and Stevie teases both of them about it and it makes Patrick feel more settled in his skin.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and apparently he’s sitting close enough to David that he feels it too. When he doesn’t answer it and it vibrates again, David gives him a look that speaks a thousand dirty jokes. Patrick laughs and pulls it out to turn on Do Not Disturb, which means he catches sight of what the messages are about and winces.

“What’s up?” David tucks in close and keeps his voice low.

“Nothing too bad, I just totally forgot there was this festive trivia thing tonight I said I’d probably go to like a month ago.” It’s unlike Patrick to miss something like this, but he’d been trying to work up the nerve to ask if David wanted to join him and didn’t want to put it in his calendar until he knew. Then, his parents had suddenly announced they were coming and everything else fled his mind.

David raises an eyebrow and quirks his mouth. “Festive trivia, huh?”

Patrick’s about to ask if he wants to go when Stevie suddenly pops around David’s side. “We’re going to festive trivia?” She looks far too excited by this prospect for Patrick to shut her down.

“I guess?” Patrick looks over at his parents. He appreciated the break from them, but it’s probably rude to abandon them. Not for the first time this trip, Patrick really wishes he had an actual apartment of his own so he could at least offer them somewhere to spend the rest of their evening.

In the end, Stevie’s cheer at the confirmation alerts them and they seem perfectly happy to part ways after dinner. Johnny and Moira offer to share a nightcap of their own together back at the motel, an idea both sweet and nerve-wracking. Patrick attempts to put that at the back of his mind, though, because he’s glad to not totally be abandoning his parents.

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick’s so caught up in thinking about everything else going on he doesn’t even think about the fact he’s never mixed his David-and-Stevie social group with his baseball friends. Luckily, only three of the latter are waiting for them at the Wobbly Elm, and Stevie’s met them a couple of times. From the text thread, they seem excited that he’s bringing David with him.

“Finally deem us worthy to meet the boyfriend, eh?” Lindsey asks with a smirk when Patrick’s done a vague introduction. She’s a thin blonde woman with a killer throwing arm who shit-talks with the best of them.

 _Fuck_ , he hadn’t really considered that news of their ‘relationship’ would have travelled this far. Also, she said that in a way that will probably make David think he’s been going around claiming they were in a relationship before this whole plan. _Fuck_. He may talk about David a lot, but he didn’t think his friends were among the people with the impression something was going on.

“Oh, I insisted on coming this time as soon as I heard there was trivia!” David’s voice is bright, but brittle and he moves in close, setting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick is suddenly very glad he hadn’t made it to the other regular trivia nights he’d been meaning to attend, because otherwise, David saying that would be very suspicious. “You’ve all come to the store, anyway.” It’s a weak defense.

Mo, their star shortstop—and Patrick’s fellow newcomer to the town, as he’d moved from Kentucky last year—laughs. He’s a pudgy guy of asian descent who likes to make Patrick laugh so hard it hurts and then says it’s a core workout. “Yeah, yeah, but we can’t ply him with drinks to dish the dirt when y’all’re at work!”

David smirks. “Well, if I’d known that was on the table I’d have made Patrick bring me along earlier.” He’s giving no indication that the idea has never even come up before.

“What’s your poison?” Debbie—a black woman who is the best batter on the team—gestures to the bar, a welcoming smile on her face. She’s quieter than the others, which they probably need to balance the big personalities in the group.

“Give me a minute, I’ll come help.” Patrick takes off his warm outerwear and feels briefly very exposed when he remembers his outfit, but other than a raised eyebrow from Lindsey none of them say anything.

He and Debbie catch up as they wait at the bar; he tells her about his parents’ visit and she fills him in on her present plans for her nieces and nephews. It’s nice and normal. Then she asks what his parents think of David and he freezes.

“I… think they like him? No, I’m sure they like him, it’s just...” He hadn’t really planned on getting into this, but she was the first one to really welcome him on the team, plus he knows she’s bi, so he thinks she might get it. “I only came out to them on Sunday and I don’t think they were expecting it at all, so it’s kind of a lot?”

Debbie smiles, and squeezes Patrick’s shoulder. “Yeah, that’s always tough, even when they do respond well.”

Patrick nods. It feels good somehow, to think he’s going through something like a shared experience. They talk about it a little more, but then they’re ordering the drinks and moving on.

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick probably drinks too quickly once they settle in. There are pitchers of beer on the table and Lindsey keeps topping up people’s glasses so he’s not really keeping track. It just… feels so free to be here with his friends and with _David_ , who he’s allowed to cuddle in close with because he’s _out_ now. He’s out and everyone in town knows and his _parents_ know, too!

There’s also the relief of not being constantly on guard for how his mom and dad are reacting. He isn’t sure why he’s not able to turn that off, why he keeps pushing the barriers, but it’s nice to have a break. He feels a lot more relaxed, especially with the beer and David seeming happy to let Patrick wrap around him.

God, he seriously needs to _talk_ to David and tell him how he feels. He’s been locking it up for so long, but this whole thing has enlightened Patrick how good it could be. Of course, now they’re in this he can’t say anything until his parents are gone, because if David’s not interested then it would make it extra weird to keep up the charade. On the other hand, is it unethical to—

David’s lips are so soft and warm and talented. Patrick leans right into the kiss, not questioning it at all. He chases David’s mouth a little after it pulls away.

“Hey there, thought that might get your attention.” David’s smile is small and gentle. “You were off in your head, but the next round’s about to start.”

Patrick laughs at himself, shaking his head. “Sorry about that.”

David waves it off and then the announcer starts asking questions and they’re all focusing on that. Even with his competitive nature, a part of Patrick is constantly aware of how close he and David are sitting. They turn out to be a great team, as David has the sort of pop culture and fashion knowledge that the rest of the group lacks and Patrick has watched far too many history documentaries not to pick up some useful facts. Stevie contributes little other than sarcastic remarks, but every so often manages to drop an answer that no one else could manage thanks to her true crime obsession.

As the game goes on, Patrick keeps drinking and finding ways to get closer to David. It’s just, David feels so _good_ against him, smells so good when Patrick gets close enough. He would stop were he not growing more sure that the attraction is mutual—if the way David’s arm keeps him close, and the way he takes every chance to slide his mouth over Patrick’s cheek when he moves forward is any indication. At one point, Patrick gives in to the urge to tug at the short hairs at the back of David’s head and David makes a quiet pleased noise that will feature in Patrick’s fantasies for the rest of his life.

Stevie definitely gives them some ‘what the fuck are you doing’ looks, but she’s distractedly flirting with Mo, and also, Patrick doesn’t give a fuck. His chances to do this are limited and David seems _into_ it and no way is he stopping.

Halfway through the quiz they announce the team standings and their team—'There's No Plate Like Home for the Holidays'—is tied for first. Patrick pulls David in for a kiss to celebrate and can’t resist sliding his tongue along David’s lips and licking into his mouth when he gasps. It’s so good to get to do this again, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since the moment Ray interrupted their most intense kiss to date. Patrick thinks he could happily keep tasting David's mouth forever, but they’re only halfway through the kiss so he forces himself to pull back.

“I’m going to have to switch to beer,” is the first thing David says when they part, a smirk firmly in place. “If I’m going to have to taste it from you anyway, I might as well give in and drink it myself.”

Patrick nearly misses the start of the next round because his brain short-circuits. David could easily have played that as a reason to stop the kissing, used it to tease Patrick but pull back the PDA. Instead, he suggested they’d be keeping up.

For all of that, they do mostly focus on answering the questions. Lindsey is in charge of filling in their answer sheets, as she has the neatest handwriting. As they approach the end and their team seems in with a real chance of winning Patrick can feel the competitive side of himself wanting to recheck her work.

David pokes him in the side and gives him a look just when he’s considering offering to take over and Patrick can’t help but laugh. It definitely helps him relax to be reminded how well David knows him, especially when paired with David dropping a kiss on his cheek.

The last round’s topic is Christmas Music and, thanks to Debbie’s knowledge of obscure one-hit-wonders and Stevie coming through with an answer for the heavy metal song included, they manage to get every single question right.

They all hold hands as they wait for the winners to be announced and when the emcee says “There’s No Plate—” they explode into cheers and hugs.

Patrick’s so pumped on adrenaline and booze and _David_ that he goes in far too sloppy for their celebratory kiss. Instead of pushing him off, David uses his mouth and tongue to guide Patrick into something far better. It’s hot and wet, but controlled in a way that Patrick feels through every fibre of his being.

They break apart to catch their breath, but David looks so fucking beautiful that Patrick gives in the urge to push him back down onto the bench and straddle him. Their mouths meet again and it’s the best Patrick has ever felt: David’s big hands holding his hips, his stubble rough against Patrick’s face, his tongue thrusting into Patrick’s mouth in a rhythm that could only be described as _fucking._ He’s buzzing from all the alcohol and the hormones flowing through him, magnifying every sensation and erasing the outside world.

Patrick groans, feeling like the only thing holding him together is David; his hands, his mouth, his body. Said hands slide a little closer to Patrick’s ass and s _hit_ , Patrick wants that touch, wants David to touch every inch, every curve, every divet of his skin. He has spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about the few glorious seconds David had grabbed him there in his bedroom, he can’t help but wiggle his hips just a little, hoping to encourage David’s hands to move.

What he’s not prepared for is David _groaning_ into his mouth and holding his hips tighter so they stay still. _Fuck_ that’s so sexy, he had no idea that would be so sexy. The alcohol has so far managed to keep Patrick’s dick from trying to get involved, but now he’s getting hard so fast he’s dizzy with it.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and the outside world rushes back in, reminding him they’re in _public_ , in front of his _friends_. He tears his mouth back from David and pants, trying to catch his breath. He can’t stop looking at David’s wet red mouth, his dilated pupils, his—

“Hel _lo,_ can you hear me?”

Right. Right. Someone tapped Patrick on the shoulder. Stevie did, probably because everyone else felt too awkward to interrupt this totally inappropriate public make-out session.

“Hi.” It’s David who speaks, his tone sardonic, but his eyes saying _I don’t want to talk about this_ , leaving Patrick feeling like a total asshole for putting him in this situation, however into it he seemed to be.

“Sorry,” Patrick mumbles, not sure who he’s even directing it at, but looking at Stevie, because looking at David is too much.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, let’s not with—" she gestures between them “—whatever’s happening here. I’m a nice person so I’m giving you a five-minute warning as your designated driver.”

Patrick nods dumbly as she turns away to say something to Mo, who shoots a wink over that Patrick feels both gratified and embarrassed by. It’s only when David finally removes his hands from Patrick’s hips that he realises they were still there. Patrick slides back; he’s acutely aware of his erection with every movement, so he quickly moves to sit next to David and tries to think un-sexy thoughts.

He honestly can’t believe he got that carried away in the middle of a bar. When he was younger, he saw his friends do stuff like that, and he always thought it was rude. He never got the appeal. He and Rachel would tease friends about it whenever it happened, and would share a smug feeling about never being so immature. He doesn’t feel very mature right now. The whole thought is depressing enough that Patrick won’t have to embarrass himself when he gets up and he avoids looking David in the eye. Though, that’s partially to avoid the desire to fling himself right back into his lap.

Stevie gestures them over and Patrick _needs_ to break the tension between himself and David. “Shotgun.”

David gasps in horror. “What? No! You are not the one who needs the legroom.”

“And yet, I’m the one who called shotgun.” Patrick finally lets himself look at David, just to see that wonderful look he gets on his face when he’s infuriated.

“Nice.” Stevie holds out her fist for a bump and things feel a lot closer to normal again.

His friends are all leaving at the same time and as he hugs them goodbye they all say things about being glad to meet David that make him feel warm and accepted and like a total asshole for lying to them.

Stevie blasts Christmas music the whole drive back and Patrick is perfectly happy to have the excuse not to talk.


	3. Chapter 3

David’s heart surges in fear and excitement as they approach the nearest outdoor ice rink. He hasn’t been ice skating in a very long time—and certainly never in a rural municipal rink—but he used to love it. Patrick had clearly expected him to turn down joining him and his parents for this, but no way was that going to happen.

Luckily, David had managed to keep hold of the custom ice skates Rihanna’s stylist had commissioned for him when they dated. However much he missed the activity, he’s not sure he could have made himself participate if he’d needed to wear communal skates.

He played it cool when Patrick asked though, acted as though the skates he owned were as much of a barely used gift as Alexis’ bike. This is partially because it’s been a few years and he isn’t quite sure how good he’ll still be, but mostly because he’s very much hoping he’ll be able to show off once he’s back in the swing of things.

Marcy insists on hot chocolate before anything else, a move David has a lot of respect for. He tucks his hand through Patrick’s arm as they head to the concession stand, because he’s decided that if Patrick’s really going for it, he might as well join him.

Patrick spent the morning at the store clearly struggling with the after-effects of how much beer he’d drunk at the trivia, but he seems better now they’re outside in the cold air. They haven’t talked about the intense and public make-out session the night before, which David has been doing his best not to think about. He hadn’t drunk nearly as much as Patrick had, definitely not enough to have gotten as caught up as he did.

He’s been surprised by Patrick since his parents arrived; it’s clear he’s working through some things with them, even if David doesn’t really get it. He just hopes he’s being supportive in the right way, or at least not in an actively wrong way.

They take seats by the side of the ice, watching the skaters; it’s not as horribly crowded as David feared. Certainly, it’s a lot more so than nearly any ice he’s skated on before, but a hell of a lot less so than the one time he gave into the cliché for a date and went to the rink at Rockefeller Center.

Once they finish their drinks, they all change their footwear. Patrick and his parents have their own skates as well; they’re hockey skates, which are fundamentally incorrect and upsetting to look at. David supposes he’d rather that than have them rent some, but the lack of a toe pick is deeply unnatural.

David’s skates are gorgeous: custom moulded to his feet and skating style, with a simple chic black and white pattern that is both eye-catching and understated. He used to get them sharpened on a strict schedule approved by his personal skate sharpener, so they’re still perfectly pristine from the last time they were used. He supposes he’ll have to figure out how long normal people go between doing that, and how they even do it, but considering he’s been in Schitt’s Creek this long and it’s his first time skating he probably doesn’t need to worry for a while.

There is something silly in walking on normal ground with skate guards on that always made David feel horrifically self-conscious before, but the way Patrick and his family laugh about it makes him wonder why it was ever such an issue? At the edge of the ice, they take the guards off their skates and drop them on the boards.

Clint and Marcy speed off together, but Patrick waits as David gets his bearings, obviously watching out for an accident to befall him at any moment. It’s sweet, if thoroughly unnecessary, because after just a few moments David’s body remembers how this works, despite the fact the ice is all torn up and well past needing to be Zambonied. He plays it up a little, though, moving uncertainly and staying close to the boards as Patrick’s brow furrows with concern, before shooting off and turning to skate backwards, looking at Patrick in challenge before turning around and propelling himself away with crossovers.

Patrick takes up the challenge immediately and quickly catches him. With all the people around and the time since he last skated, David doesn’t want to go too fast, but Patrick seems to be on the same wavelength. They skate around, meeting each other before one of them darts away and the other has to chase after. It feels like an extension of their teasing, a playful energy between them that David is starting to grow used to.

Clint and Marcy are more sedate, skating around the rink at a reasonable pace, never too far from one another. David doesn’t even realise he’s matching them, watching from a few metres back, until Patrick grabs hold of his hand and slows to skate alongside him.

“Your parents are kind of adorable.” David hasn’t actually known many people whose parents really care about each other the way his do.

Patrick rolls his eyes, but he smiles a little as well. “Yeah, they’re pretty solid. They’ve always been like that.”

David’s mother may be, in many ways, chimerical, but one aspect of her that has never changed is her love for Johnny, returned a hundred-fold from him. “It’s nice. Don’t tell my parents this, but I really admire it, that certainty.”

Patrick’s face does something then. David has no idea how he hit a nerve with that, but he clearly did. “Yeah, I guess. It can be good to know some things never change.” He doesn’t sound at all like he means that and David gets an idea of what the issue is.

“You know you haven’t changed, right?” It’s not the place to have this conversation, but he needs to reassure Patrick. “You’re still the same Patrick you always were.”

Patrick frowns, but the hand holding onto David’s tightens. “You didn’t know the me before, though, the whole point of my moving here was that—changing, I mean.”

Fuck, David’s totally messing this up. This is why he shouldn’t be put in charge of emotional conversations. “I don’t mean you can’t change in lots of ways; I used to wear pacifier necklaces and take any pill I was offered and I am _very_ happy those days are behind me. What I mean is, you’re still their son. Whatever sexuality you have doesn’t take away from that.”

Patrick squeezes David’s hand, before pulling it to his mouth to drop a kiss. David suddenly wishes he weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel the full warmth of the press of his lips against his hand. “I just wonder sometimes, what about the me I could have been if I’d realised this sooner?”

David’s still trying to come up with an answer to that one when a small child suddenly flies into his legs and sends him tumbling, dragging Patrick down with him by their joined hands. The owner of the child apologises profusely and David leaves it to Patrick, who got back up quickly, to reassure them because he is not in a position to say anything child-friendly at this moment.

Patrick’s eyes sparkle with laughter as he reaches a hand to help David up. He always manages to get David to laugh when he’s trying to be annoyed, and it works this time, too. Once David’s standing, Patrick makes a show of brushing off the ice that stuck to his backside. David rolls his eyes, but can’t help taking the chance to return the favour.

“Snack break?” Patrick clearly knows the answer to this without David saying it aloud, as he skates off, leaving David to chase after him.

Marcy and Clint are waiting for them at the entrance to the ice. The way Marcy fusses over them, making sure they weren’t hurt in the fall, reminds David of the way Adelina would be after his lessons, making sure nothing terrible happened on the ice. He went through phases with how he reacted to that—from loving it so much he’d fake injuries to get her attention, to the utter certainty she only cared about him because she was paid to, eventually landing somewhere in the middle. From Marcy, it’s sweet, especially because of how embarrassed Patrick looks in the face of it.

“We’re fine, I’m just glad no one got near the blades while we were on the ground. Mine were freshly sharpened after I last wore them and they could probably cut diamonds.” David gestures to his skates, hoping the joke lands.

“Have I said how beautiful those are? I grew up in a hockey family, so I’ve never got used to figure skates, but you’re so graceful with them it makes me wish I’d tried.” Marcy is so painfully sincere that David almost wishes he could get her a pair right now, which is a strange instinct for him.

It’s safer to reply with self-deprecation. “I didn’t even do any jumps!” That leads to the back-and-forth that yes, he does actually know a few jumps, but it’s been years and he was promised a snack break. Patrick pouts at him as they head over to the concession stand where there are butter tarts and fresh popcorn. David knows that he’s probably going to give in and attempt something once they’re back out on the ice.

Patrick insists David sit down while he gets the snacks, and reassures David, “Yes, I’ll get you popcorn _and_ a butter tart, what do you take me for?” before he even asks. Clint goes to join the line with him and David’s left alone with Marcy.

He’s mostly inventorying the extent to which his muscles are complaining about the work they’ve been doing—he hasn’t exactly been working them much lately—when Marcy speaks. “You two work well together.”

David _thinks_ he manages to avoid showing his discomfort on his face; her saying that just reminds him of the lies he’s been helping her son tell. “Well, you know, we run a business together, so…” He gestures vaguely to the air, as if that’s an acceptable end to a sentence.

Marcy purses her mouth and the expression is so like one of Patrick’s that it tugs on David’s heart. “It’s more than that, though. I always thought he and Rachel were great together, even though I tried never to push him back to her. I just didn’t understand why it kept not working. But I see him with you and there’s something there I’ve never seen in him before.”

David is incredibly grateful that Patrick and Clint choose that moment to reappear because he has no clue how to respond to _that._

The food is spectacular—how had David forgotten that popcorn could be _this_ good—and he catches Patrick watching as he licks the crumbs off his thumb. There’s a heat in his eyes that makes David immediately feel flushed and he tilts his head slightly to indicate _Your parents are right here._ Patrick shrugs and steals a piece of David's popcorn, smugness still playing at his eyes.

David’s been doing pretty well at ignoring what happened the night before, but now it’s all flooding through his head. Patrick’s mouth was so wet and warm and intense on his and he wants more of it. If he hadn’t already realised that Patrick found him attractive, he’d definitely know it now. It makes it all the harder to resist the urge to give into it, but he can’t do that, even if every day they continue this makes his resolve weaken.

Patrick’s parents decide to sit out the second session on the ice, so David and Patrick go out together alone. David’s muscles are slightly more tired now, but it’s still invigorating to be reminded of this thing his body can do. It reminds him of sex, in a way. He can go a long time without it—god knows he’s done so most of his time since he moved here—but once he’s with a partner again he remembers that it’s something he’s _really_ good at.

Thinking about sex isn’t helpful at all, with Patrick skating ahead of him, his thick thighs and ass on display in his tight jeans. One thing David definitely remembers from his figure skating days is that skaters have the best asses; that Patrick’s winters were spent on hockey and his summers were spent on baseball—another sport that seems to involve a lot of squatting—explains a lot.

Patrick turns around to skate backwards in front of David, a smirk on his face that says David didn’t look up quickly enough. “Like what you see?”

David’s hands flutter with a will of their own. “Just impressed you can do this so well in those abominations.” He throws a pointed look at Patrick’s skates. They’re scuffed and obviously very well worn, the complete opposite of David’s.

“You haven’t _really_ shown me what you can do yet. You might as well be wearing hockey skates.”

David gasps, affronted even though he knows that’s exactly what Patrick wants. The rink is a bit less busy now, enough that he has the space to do something. He puts on a burst of speed so that he can get past Patrick and onto the next strait, before doing his best to remember everything his coach had taught him. He lets himself glide backwards on his right foot before turning and stepping to his left foot and then launching himself into the air into a waltz jump. No more than a half turn in the air, just to prove he can leave the ice and come back down and be okay.

“That was incredible.” Patrick sounds genuinely impressed and it feels so unearned David has to laugh; that was barely even a jump!

He doesn’t look back. Seeing Patrick is a distraction he doesn’t need if he’s going to try and land this. He’s not planning on trying anything radical, just a single loop into a single toe loop, maybe finishing with a two-foot spin if he’s feeling up to it. He could push it further, but he really isn’t interested in going all the way to the hospital in Elmdale. Even so, he can feel the nerves trying to rise.

David always had a complex relationship with anxiety and his skating. It was the source of it— _Was he good enough? How good was he trying to be, exactly?_ —but also something that soothed it. There’s no room for nerves when you’re launching into the air with blades strapped to your feet.

He’d never really been good enough for competitions, though his coach had insisted he could be if he set his mind to it, but still. He’d been able to land these jumps easily, has managed to do them every time he’s been on the ice since. He can do this.

He can feel that it’s perfect the moment he goes into it, he sets up for his first jump with his arms in perfect position as he glides backwards in a curve and then pulls his arms in as he launches into the air. He checks out of the jump quickly and feels his edge solidly underneath him so he confidently taps his left foot into the ice and launches himself into another jump. When he lands, he holds his position for a few moments, enjoying showing off his perfect combination. He skated until he was sure he had enough room, and then turned into the spin, finally finishing facing Patrick.

Patrick’s expression is nothing short of awe, far beyond anything David might have expected. His heart pounds at the way Patrick’s eyes beam out his feelings so hard it almost knocks David back with the force of it.

“David, that was… Holy shi—wow, David!” He doesn't even finish the word shit, which is such a mild curse word, but that he nearly dropped it in public—and there are definitely kids around, many of whom had stopped to watch David’s jumps—while completely sober just deepens how much David wants to soak up but also hide from Patrick’s reaction.

Patrick skates up to him and pauses, their bodies close, before getting his hand around David’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It’s far from their hottest kiss, none of the slick tongues and sharp teeth of the night before, but it’s somehow more intense than any previous one. It is like Patrick is trying to direct all of that feeling that had shown on his face and pump it right into David’s heart, which wasn’t built to handle it. It feels like maybe.

Maybe there really is something here. Maybe David’s an idiot if he doesn’t try to chase after it. The kiss breaks after an eternity of seconds and David does his best to smile and not give away the crisis going on in his head. “I think that’s enough skating for me.” He thinks his voice sounds normal; Patrick at least doesn’t seem concerned, just takes his hand so they can skate together over to the rink exit.

Patrick’s parents express how impressed they are, which is a tad overwhelming, especially with Patrick’s arm around his waist and he smiles more proudly than anyone ever has over something David’s done. He barely even did anything, he’s seen seven-year-olds do better. It’s all feeling like a bit too much, and he’s glad he’s not spending the evening with them. He’s tired from so much time spent trying to come across as the ideal boyfriend and desperately needs a break.

❄️❄️❄️

David and Stevie have a standing Wednesday evening appointment to watch terrible TV and eat pizza while getting high together. Patrick often joins them, but not always, and had begged off today to hang out with his parents. Were David a better person he might have told Patrick he would cancel and join them, but really he’s glad to have a break.

All the time spent with Patrick and his parents has been unexpectedly nice, but in a suffocating way. Normally, Patrick is as inconsequential to David as Stevie is—in that being around him doesn’t take nearly as much energy as being around most people does—but this whole thing has knocked that off-kilter.

Pretending to be in a relationship with Patrick is way too hard and David needs a break. Some parts of it are easy, like kissing Patrick and leaning into him whenever he’s close. But the constant need to keep himself held together, to be the boyfriend Patrick would want his parents to meet, is exhausting.

Of course, Stevie only allows him an hour or so of avoiding the thought and then, when he’s buzzed and vulnerable, she lays her trap. “How’s the week been going?” Her tone is casual and relaxed, like she couldn’t care less, which is why David doesn’t even think to censor himself.

“It’s been really good, Patrick’s so nice, his parents are so _nice_ , Stevie. I don’t even hate them for it, what’s that about?” He attempts to sit up where he’s slumped on the couch so he can see her better and notices the glint in her eye. “Oh no no no no no!”

“What?” Stevie is doing her best to sound sweet and innocent which is hilarious and utterly ineffective. Her big eyes are round and wide like she has no clue what the issue is.

“You—you think I _like_ Patrick and you want me to fucking, like, talk about it or some other unacceptable bullshit.” He actually does want to talk about the weird vibes he’s picked up a few times, the way Patrick seems to want to rub his queerness in his parent’s faces, but he thinks that's private, even from Stevie.

“Why would I want you to talk about your feelings? Gross.” It’s a fair point, except for how she’s bugged him about this various times over the months. It’s been a while, though.

“Exactly! Exactly right. So I won’t do it.” David crosses his arms firmly, which is kind of nice, like a hug he’s giving himself, but that just makes him think of how nice it is when Patrick hugs him. Patrick gives really good hugs, like he’s as good at them as he is at walking or talking or anything else he learned when he was a baby. Not like David, who had to figure out how to hug when he was all grown up, like the difference between speaking a language fluently and trying to pick it up from context in your thirties. David should probably practice it, if he really wants to at least speak hug-language conversationally. “Maybe we should hug more.”

Stevie bursts out laughing. “You and Patrick? You aren’t getting enough _physical affection_ from him already?”

David frowns at her, because _obviously_ there’s no such thing as _enough_ physical affection with Patrick, but also _obviously_ that’s not what he meant. “No! You and me. Although, maybe two amateurs practicing isn’t great. We could get someone to teach us, but not Patrick because he’s very good at it but he can’t know about the practice, so someone else. Jocelyn, maybe?”

Stevie’s face is all twisted up like David’s making no sense, which is quite frankly offensive. “Wait, are you calling me a shitty hugger? And you think we should _practice_?”

David huffs a deep sigh. Normally Stevie just _gets_ him, especially when they’re high, but apparently, he needs to explain these very basic principles to her. He goes through his thought process, making sure to emphasise the point about fluency and adding in some details about brain elasticity in children that he vaguely picked up from half-watching some documentary or other.

Stevie’s expression is one that she almost never wears, a soft sort of affection and fondness that makes David itchy, but she quickly drops to something more neutral. “I think Patrick already considers you an excellent hugger, David.

He’s certainly had practice since Alexis asked for that hug after she broke up with Mutt, when it went from strange and awkward to exactly right in just a few seconds. “But… maybe he’s just being nice?”

Stevie sighs deeply and wriggles her way to standing. “You are allowed to give me one hug, such that I can give you a rating.”

The concept is suddenly completely daunting, enough that David almost tells her to call the whole thing off, except… he thinks it might be okay, hugging Stevie. He might like that. And he needs to know if he’s doing it right, because Patrick keeps hugging him and it’s so nice, David needs it to be as nice for Patrick as it is for him.

He stands up and does a little shimmy, giving Stevie an exaggerated look up and down.

She laughs but waves a finger at him. “None of that, this is a _platonic_ hug! You want any other sort of hug, you need to go to Patrick.”

David resists the urge to point out he only has a couple of days left of being able to _go to Patrick_ for that sort of thing, because they aren’t talking about that. He stands in front of Stevie, their height difference so much more obvious than usual because Stevie’s personality fills all the cracks in the world. It’s hard not to remember their first kiss, high, and tipsy, and giggling until they weren’t. This feels so much bigger, like—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Stevie’s patience snaps and she wraps her arms around David’s waist. Her grip is fierce and certain and David rushes to keep up, crouching slightly as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close.

It’s not like hugging Patrick or like hugging Alexis, except for how it is just like both of them. It’s not like the frantic bursts of alternating disdain and overwhelming giddiness he used to experience with people he was desperate to please, with the rush that came from succeeding always further and further away. It’s not the frantic desire to keep Alexis close so he can look after her, mixed with trying not to let her know how much he cares. He grips Stevie a bit tighter, letting his body relax even as his arm muscles tighten, feeling the sort of warm, solid connection he didn’t know he could have until he had Stevie. He doesn’t even want to think about how it’s not like Patrick, because Patrick is so important, but right now so is this. David allows his hand to rub across her back and, without really meaning to, the truth comes out of his mouth. “I think you’re my best friend.”

Stevie pushes him away, the fondness in her eyes betraying her even as she scoffs. “You think?”

“Well, I can't know for sure, because I'm realising now that I don't think I've ever really had one.” It’s something he hasn’t dwelled on in years, but now it's glaringly obvious.

“Okay, well, if we're being honest, I don't think I've ever had one, either.”

“This would be a really sweet moment, if what we had just admitted to each other wasn't so sad.”

Stevie collapses back onto the sofa. “I dunno, is it more or less sad than you saying we should get hugging lessons from _Jocelyn Schitt_.”

David flops next to her, closer than he was before, as she reminds him why they went through all that. “So, how’d I do?”

Stevie twists her mouth and taps it with her finger, letting out a dramatic hum. “Definitely a passing grade. C plus, maybe?”

“C PLUS! That hug was A-minus, minimum.”

“I thought you said you were a hug amateur! Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a C plus, it just means that obviously there has to be some other reason Patrick’s working so hard to get more of them.” Stevie’s grinning enough to cut any sting out of her words and David suspects she thinks the hug was actually MENSA material. He definitely does.

❄️❄️❄️

On Thursday afternoon, Marcy and Jocelyn come into Rose Apothecary together, both laughing at something David didn’t hear. He’d forgotten about their plans, but it makes sense they’d get on.

Patrick is out confirming some details for the Open Mic night—David refuses to know what exactly goes into planning those, as he maintains that he is against them on principle—which feels a bit odd. He talked to Marcy just the two of them briefly yesterday and it was intense. At least they have Jocelyn as a buffer now.

They present a box of decorated gingerbread men that they’ve apparently spent the day making. It’s ridiculously clichéd, but David’s not going to say no to trying one. He chooses one garishly dressed in an elf costume, on the theory that if he eats it he doesn’t need to look at it any longer.

It’s delicious, which is expected from any food Jocelyn makes, though he tries to avoid learning what they’re made of. Marcy asks about the open mic night coming up and before David can side-step that, Jocelyn tells the story of Patrick singing to David at their first one.

“It was honestly so sweet, Marcy, you’d have loved it. Of course, they were just friends then, I bet we’ll get something even sweeter tonight!”

David’s breath catches because he hadn’t even considered it. Patrick singing “You’ve Got a Friend” to him had been so incredibly special, making David feel seen in a way he could hardly stand, and the idea of Patrick doing some sort of fake romantic version of that has him feeling nauseous.

Before he can figure out how to get them out of there so he can panic in peace, Patrick returns. He’s very chipper, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek in that earnestly charming way he has.

Jocelyn offers him the box of cookies and Patrick, which examines with an exaggerated frown. “I’m not sure if I should eat another man right in front of David.”

It’s not that far from some of the comments he’d made before and, honestly, not something that David would care about being said in front of his own parents, but he’s not very comfortable with it here. It makes the itchy feeling from the night before come back.

Jocelyn laughs and tells Patrick he’s such a joker and Marcy’s eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs, too. “Oh, I think David would let you off the hook this once?”

It’s a relief that she’s teasing as well, though Patrick’s smile has a false edge to it that David’s not used to seeing. “Maybe David and I can share one.” It shouldn’t be suggestive, if not for what he’d said before and the way Patrick looks through his eyelashes at David as he speaks.

David tries to laugh. “You go ahead, I’ve had one.” It’s not like him to turn down baked goods, but the gingerbread man he already ate is sitting heavy in his stomach.

Patrick frowns and comes around the counter to wrap an arm around David. “You okay?” His voice is low, even though Jocelyn and Marcy can obviously hear them.

David forces a smile. It’s ridiculous that he can’t keep his emotions in check just because of a couple of silly comments. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine.”

Patrick looks into David’s eyes like he’s trying to seek out every inch of truth he can, and then pulls David down for gentle kiss. It’s so brief and yet the softness of Patrick’s lips and the tender way he’s touching David makes him feel like he's being pulled apart and put back together again.

A customer enters the store, breaking the moment, and David greets them while Patrick picks a gingerbread man. The customer needs something from one of the top shelves, so David gets the stepladder to reach it, not really thinking about the fact he’s wearing a skirt despite the fact he’s regretted his bare calves every time the door opened and let in a chill all day.

When he gets down, Patrick’s giving him a suggestive look and David raises a questioning eyebrow, with a look tossed at Marcy for good measure. Patrick shrugs. “I just _really_ like that skirt on you.”

It would be exciting to hear Patrick say that, expect he definitely said it loud enough for everyone to hear and it makes that uncertain feeling roar between David's ears. He does his best not to show it as he waves the comment off and hands the customer her shawl.

It’s nearly closing time, luckily, so Jocelyn and Marcy head off to where, apparently, Clint and Roland have been playing increasingly tense games of Uno. There’s enough to do in the store to set up that Patrick won’t see his parents until the event, but Marcy insists that’s no problem.

They have another couple of customers in the last few minutes; people still Christmas shopping with two days to go, which is a great distraction. Once the store is finally closed they go through their closing tasks in a silence that’s unusual for them. It’s not that they’re never quiet together, but this feels fraught and thick.

Once they’re done, Patrick crosses his arms and looks over until David gives in and meets his eyes. “Did I upset you with the flirting? I thought we’d said it was okay, but maybe I went too far.” His eyes are wide and sincere in a way David has no defense from, so he says the thought he hasn’t been allowing himself to consider but won’t let him go.

“Did you want me to help you with this because I’m—” he flutters his hand, trying to figure out which word he hates least “—flamboyant, or fey, or whatever you want to call it?”

Patrick’s faint eyebrows raise in surprise and he takes a couple of steps towards David before stopping himself. “What—why would you ask that?”

David suddenly feels stupid and wishes he’d never said it, so he tries to turn it into a joke. “Oh you know, just wondered if you needed me to turn it up or something.” He cocks his hip and flips his hand and feels even worse than he did before.

Patrick shakes his head. “David, I don’t—I really don’t want you to ever be anyone other than who you are. If you think I’ve been trying to _use_ that then I’ve obviously seriously fucked up somewhere.”

David twists his mouth to the side. He believes Patrick is genuine, but at the same time… “Aren’t you, though? With the—the comment about my skirt and talking up my eye for fashion and all of that?”

Patrick’s face falls and he scrubs a hand over it. “Could we—” he shakes his arms out, obviously physically anxious in a way David’s never seen from him, even the day he found out his parents were going to come. “Okay, how about I go and get you a coffee, and then we can talk in the back room?”

David’s not going to begrudge him a minute to collect his thoughts. The whole reason he’d been trying to ignore these things is because he knows this entire week has been hard for Patrick. “Sure, I’ll start resetting the room so we have more time to talk.” It’s a mature response; to allow Patrick some space, to decide to _talk_ about something that boils down to David being over-sensitive, but David still feels like any minute maybe he’ll decide to run instead.

He doesn’t run away. He takes a deep breath, and then another before he begins the process of re-setting the store for the Open Mic Night. It’s familiar at this point; much as he tries to avoid most things to do with the events, he’s usually part of these last bits of set up.

David manages to get all the wine and glasses for the evening into place before Patrick returns holding two to-go cups. He hands David’s over, a sheepish smile on his face.

The drink is perfect, because Patrick learned his coffee order well before it made any sense to. It’s something so small, but it feels more like a normal interaction between them than anything has in a while.

“So, back room?” Patrick’s got that determined set to his shoulders that means they’re going to talk about this.

David isn’t sure whether to be grateful, or wish that they could just pretend he’d never said anything. He’s committed now, though. “Back room.”

They settle on the couch, both sipping their drinks. David gets the feeling that Patrick is building up to something and he’s happy to let him. Anything that means David’s not the one who needs to figure out what to say.

“So, I think I’m still… waiting for the other shoe to drop with my parents. I don’t mean to, but I keep noticing their reactions to things and it makes me want to—push them, a bit.”

That’s kind of what David thought was happening, but he doesn’t know if it’s helpful to say that. “What sort of reactions?”

Patrick sighs. “Mostly surprise, I guess? Like it’s so hard to believe that—that I’d be interested in new things.”

There’s no point pretending that’s not what they’re talking about, it’s already out there. “Or that you’d be interested in someone obviously queer?”

Patrick frowns. “I think it’s more, that I want to be… that. I want them to see it’s just as much a part of me as it is of you.”

It breaks David’s heart a little. There’s no point in his life when people didn’t assume he was queer—usually, they get the specifics of it wrong, but still. He can’t imagine what it must feel like for Patrick, to be trying to figure out his relationship to that side of himself now. “You don’t have to change who you are to be attracted to men, you know? All you need to be is you.

Patrick takes a deep, ragged breath. His eyes are glistening a little and David fights the urge to wrap him up in his arms by taking a sip of his coffee. Clearly, the hugging session with Stevie affected him far too much.

“I’m just not sure who ‘me’ is and I want—I don’t want them to love me _despite_ my sexuality. I don’t want it to be something that is _accepted_ , like you accept having to file your tax return. I want it to be…” He trails off, looking absolutely miserable to not be able to find the words.

“You want it to be embraced. You want them to be…” David winces at what he’s about to say, but he can’t help it. “Proud.”

Patrick lets out a startled laugh and wipes his eyes. “God, am I a total cliché here; is that what this is?”

David can’t help it, he sets his free hand on Patrick’s shoulder, hoping to comfort him. “It’s okay to be a cliché sometimes.” He rolls his eyes and gestures to himself with a coffee cup. “Obviously”

Patrick frowns. “I really wasn’t trying to use you to make a point. Or, well, obviously I was, that’s what this whole thing is, but I wasn’t trying to use your, um, your queerness? Or… maybe only in that—I feel defensive because you are the most incredible person I have ever met. And I want them to know how much I admire every part of you.”

It’s a gut punch of emotion, but David pushes that down. “Even the part of me that refuses to work the opening shift more than once a week?”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “I really want to say no, but honestly? Yes. You aren’t afraid to set a limit, whereas I break into a sweat at the _thought_ of being asked to do something I can’t.”

David can’t really relate to that. He longs to defy people’s expectations, sure, but he doesn’t necessarily care much about living up to them. He admires Patrick, though, for breaking away from his old life when he feels this way. “You’re very brave, you know.”

Patrick’s eyes widen incredulously. “Me? The guy who couldn’t come out to his parents without having his friend lie to everyone he knows to back him up?”

David rolls his eyes. “You knew it would be hard, so you found a way to make yourself take that step. You started a new life here and you’re sharing it with your parents now. That’s brave.”

Patrick shakes his head. “I am so lucky to have you, David. I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this.”

“Stop apologising! I want to help you. I want you to know that I am proud of you and I think you'd find out your parents are too, if you talked to them.” It’s possibly the most hypocritical advice David has ever given, but it feels right.

Patrick nods, staring at the wall for a few slow breaths before he turns and meets David’s eye. “David, I’m gay.”

He hasn’t dwelled on it, but David's certainly been aware that Patrick hadn’t used any identity labels for himself in their conversations. He allows himself to smile as big as he can. “Congratulations.”

Patrick’s returning smile is blinding and David’s heart _pounds_ as it hits him just how much he likes this man. “Thank you.”

They sit like that a few minutes longer, the silence the comfortable sort they usually have. David leaves his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. Once he finishes his coffee he knows they really need to go back to sorting things out for the Open Mic, but there’s something else he needs to say.

“I know that you’ll think this is just my dread of public singing, but I—I was actually really touched when you sang to me before and…” Fuck, he feels like he is flaying his chest right open for Patrick with this, laying his beating heart bear for him to see. “Could you not sing something to me you don’t mean?” He wants to babble, to make excuses or jokes or _something_ , but he has no idea what he would say.

Patrick lays his hand on David’s and makes the sort of eye contact that could convince any jury in the world to let him get away with murder. “David—” his voice is steady, but thick with emotion. “Of course not.”

It’s too much, too intense for David to possibly stand, so he withdraws his arm and stands up. “Well, okay then. Let’s prepare our store for the onslaught of amateur seasonal performance, then.”

❄️❄️❄️

After set up and a quick carry-out dinner from the cafe, David has just enough time to rush back to the motel and get changed—not into some festive monstrosity, like he’s sure most people will be wearing but a tasteful seasonal sweater, with some subtle snowflakes in the design. Exhaustingly, his whole family insists on attending, though maybe David should just be grateful that his mother isn’t trying to bring out “The Number” again, just a few months after Asbestos Fest.

It’s nice, in that way David thinks he might almost be getting used to, to see his family all dressed up to do something together that they actually want to be doing. To support David, even if it is through an event that will probably feature Ray telling snowman-based knock-knock jokes.

They all get into the Lincoln, in a configuration that reminds David of TV families on Disney Channel as a kid. Sitting in the back seat, next to his sister, while his father drives. It's like a fantasy life--but it's part of the real life they've built here.

A few people are already at the store when they arrive, but he’s managed to get his family there relatively on time so it hasn’t started yet. As expected, people are wearing all manner of gaudy Christmas sweaters, but somehow David can’t bring himself to begrudge them. Maybe he doesn’t mind the Whos of Whoville so much after all.

Patrick’s handing out drink tickets, wearing perhaps the most hideous sweater of them all. It has a seemingly random selection of Christmas iconography scattered across it, without any discernible pattern to what is placed where. He looks a bit nervous when he approaches, so David makes a point of dropping a kiss on his cheek. “That sweater is the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Alexis swats his arm. “Don’t be so mean, David! It’s like…” Her mouth twists as she tries to come up with something complimentary to say. “Ex _treme_ ly Christmassy!”

David scoffs. “It’s ex _treme_ ly fucking ugly, too.”

“That’s what I said when Clint came home with them!”

David has no idea how he managed to miss spotting Patrick’s parents entering the store, especially considering they’re wearing sweaters matching their son’s. He feels a flush of embarrassment but chooses to focus instead of the vindication of Marcy’s words.

“See, she’s wearing one and she agrees.” He smiles at Marcy. “And you said you didn’t have an eye for fashion.”

The Brewers all laugh and it sends warmth through David to see how similar they are in that moment. Annoyingly, the sweaters contribute to the effect.

“You haven’t even seen the best part of it, David!” Patrick fiddles with something at the back of his neck and suddenly the sweater has _lit up_ and is playing a tinny version of Jingle Bells.

“How positively convivial.” Moira looks as alarmed as David feels, but somehow sounds like she means it positively.

“Please tell me that your performance won’t involve you harmonising with your sweater.”

Patrick taps his lips thoughtfully. “Oh David, I hadn’t even thought of that! What a helpful suggestion.”

David bares his teeth at Patrick who just grins.

Luckily, they’re nearly at curtain, so Patrick has to go get ready. David sends their families to sit down, before double checking things with the wine stock and taking up his usual spot at the back of the group. His mother had declined a seat and ends up standing near him.

“To think, the council believed a Christmas World would be needed to bring festive jubilation to this little hamlet of ours. I suspect they could not have achieved the storybook fellowship of the holiday season that you and Patrick have achieved here tonight. Not with a thousand plastic snowmen.”

It feels a bit like an apology for all those months ago when she hadn’t backed his idea initially and he takes it as such. “Well, this many ironically ugly sweaters in my store may leave me with nightmares for weeks, but otherwise, yeah. I think we’ve done well.”

Moira lets out a small chuckle and tucks her hand into the crook of David’s arm as Patrick greets everyone.

“I’m going to start us off with a Christmas classic, which I would like to dedicate to someone very special to me.” His eyes pick David out of the crowd with no hesitation. “David Rose.”

He starts to strum and David’s not quite sure he knows what to expect until the moment Patrick starts to sing.

_"I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need,"_

David’s first reaction is a flash of anger. He asked Patrick not to sing anything he didn’t mean and people treat this song like it’s light, like some bit of fluff where the words don’t really mean anything, but it’s not that. It’s about longing so deeply for someone that nothing else can satisfy that craving for them to be yours.

But Patrick’s not treating the song like it’s a bit of fluff. He’s slowed it down, taking his time over the words and singing them so sincerely that it makes David ache in his throat, between his shoulders, in his heart.

His mother’s grip tightens on his arm and he knows she’s seeing it too, the way Patrick’s singing this like it really _means_ something, like it almost hurts to be this honest. Part of David wants to see how other people are reacting, but he can’t take his eyes off Patrick. When he finally reaches the chorus he looks right at David and it’s like being stabbed through the heart.

_"Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you, baby,"_

He picks up the pace a bit as he goes, but Patrick never makes it a joke, never breaks the atmosphere that has fallen over the room. It does, of course, remind David of the ending of _Love, Actually_ , but there’s no doubt who Patrick’s singing for here. It’s all for David. He doesn’t do the “and you, and you, and you” thing that people seem to think is always part of the song, either. While it was a perfect choice in the film in order to undercut the moment with comedy, the way it has promulgated through popular culture is a disappointment. No, Patrick lingers on the last word, singing it right at David. _Don’t sing anything you don’t mean._

When the song finishes, everyone applauds and David does his best to pull himself together as he claps. Patrick announces the next act, Roland’s reimagining of _‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,_ and steps off to the side of the stage. David wants to go to him, but they’re working and there are so many people here. When he talks to Patrick about this, he wants it to be clear it’s not for show.

Moira tightens her grip on his arm and David manages to pull his gaze towards her. Rarely has he seen her with such a sober expression on her face. She doesn’t need to say anything for him to know exactly what she means.

David nods, blinking back the tears he didn’t even know were building up.

The rest of the Open Mic Night is mostly as dreadful as expected, although Twyla does a surprisingly touching rendition of “O Holy Night.” David sends his family and Patrick’s parents off to the Motel without him. Patrick’s parents offer to help with the cleanup, which David’s family have never done, but they wave them off.

The two of them chat about how it all went as they clear up. It doesn’t feel like they’re avoiding the subject, just like they’re waiting. Once everything is clear and they have got everything set up for the next day, and are bundled into their gear, David grabs Patrick’s gloved hand in his. “I’ll walk you home.”

Patrick’s soft smile in response makes David feel more certain that they’re on the same page. He knows they’ll need to talk about it but in this moment, walking the quiet, frosty streets of Schitt’s Creek, it feels like it’s all out there already.

They’re both wearing hand-knit wool gloves that they sell at the store and somehow the cushioned, soft sensation between their clasped hands makes it feel even more perfect. It’s like an extension of the warmth and comfort they share.

They reach Ray’s place and stop, neither of them letting go. David grabs Patrick’s other hand so they’re facing each other. At some point, soft flakes of snow started to fall and one lands right onto Patrick’s long eyelashes.

 _One of my favourite things._ He couldn't stop the thought if he tried and he doesn't want to. David leans in and gives Patrick the most gentle kiss he’s ever given anyone. Patrick’s lips are so soft and plush; cold from being outside in this weather and yet perfect.

“Patrick…” He just about manages to stop himself from rolling his eyes at what he’s going to say. “All I want for Christmas is you, too.”

Patrick releases a breath like a great weight off his shoulders and watches it fog in the air and drift away. “That’s very convenient, works very well with the list that I sent to Santa myself.”

David laughs and shakes his head, still smiling as Patrick pulls him into another kiss. Their smiling mouths pressed together sends an excited zip through David’s spine. He’s so full: of Patrick, of the adrenaline from his gesture, and of hope.

When they part, Patrick ducks his head shyly. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“We can talk any time you want.” David twists his mouth thinking about what he said. While he’d like to make a joke about how that only applies after ten am, actually… “But I think you should talk to your parents, too. I’m going to open the store, don’t worry about working. If we have a real rush, I’ll make Stevie come help.”

Patrick blinks, his eyes looking wet and David pulls him into a tight hug. Because he can do that now. The warmth between their bodies is better than any ski lodge fireplace David has artfully lounged in front of.

Patrick’s arms come around his waist and grip him tight. “I might… can I tell them the truth? I think—I think if I’m going to really talk to them, I need to tell them the truth.” His voice is quiet and shaky; David feels a fierce rush of protectiveness he has only ever felt for his family and Stevie before.

“Whatever you need to do.”

They stand like that, in a fierce embrace, until the chill at his back becomes too much for David. Even so, it’s hard to let go of Patrick and step away. Patrick’s expression makes David wonder how it’s even possible for someone to look at him that way; like he’s somehow worthy of awe.

They share a soft kiss, another kiss that shouldn’t be nearly this exciting when he’s had Patrick straddling his lap with their tongues in each other’s mouths. Except, of course, this is different. David doesn’t want to think their other kisses weren’t real; he suspects now they were all more real than he could have imagined—but now they both know it. Now they can acknowledge this is something precious and to be treasured.

They say their goodnights and finally part, but even with the bitter cold David feels light and warm the whole walk down the path to the motel.


	4. Chapter 4

Patrick doesn’t know why he feels so good when he wakes up on Christmas Eve, not until the memory of David dropping him off rushes back to him in glorious technicolour. He has planned on singing that song for David at the Open Mic Night since the moment they decided on the fake-relationship plan, but he’d figured he’d need to play it off as a part of the scheme.

When David had asked him not to sing anything he didn’t mean, he considered changing that plan, but only for a moment. David had been there for him in a way Patrick had barely understood he needed that afternoon. He was ready to put himself out there, at least a bit.

Even thinking about having to really talk to his parents doesn’t bring him down. He knows they love him. He knows they aren’t going to reject him. He thinks it’s time to give them a chance to really embrace him the way he wants them to; he can see now that they’ve been trying.

He takes his time getting ready, but the sun still isn’t quite risen by the time he heads outside to clear the snow off the sidewalk. There isn’t too much of it, but the forecast says it’s staying below freezing so he wants to catch it early. Ray always says he’s happy to help, but Patrick finds the activity meditative and it will probably be a busy last day at the tree farm. He shovels in front of the houses on either side for good measure, as both those neighbours are older and he’s happy to help them out.

He’s considering just keeping on down the street when he feels a buzz in his pocket. He takes off one glove so he can open it and read the full message.

**iMessage:** David  
  
**David:** Just thought you might like to know that I’ve made it to the store MINUTES before opening time.  
  
**Patrick:** That’s very impressive  
  
**David:** I thought you’d think so.  
  
**David:** I was also wondering how you’re doing?  
  
**Patrick:** Okay. Haven’t talked to my parents yet, been shovelling Ray’s sidewalk  
  
**David:** Along with the sidewalks of a dozen neighbours?  
  
**Patrick:** Only two!  
  
**David:** That’s impressive restraint.  
  
**David:** Let me know if you need anything  
  
**Patrick:** Thank you  
  


He messages his parents to say he’s not working this morning and would like to see them, before jumping into the shower so he can ignore his phone for a bit. He finds himself singing “All I Want For Christmas Is You” and laughs at how utterly gone on David he is. What was a source of anxiety before is now a source of joy.

By the time his parents arrive, he’s got french toast nearly finished. That was a usual Christmas Eve treat growing up and he’s happy to be able to be the one sharing it now. They mostly just talk about the trip; his parents letting know how much they enjoyed the town and getting to see the life Patrick’s made for himself here. With some of his layer of defensiveness gone, Patrick can see how impressed they are and it’s a wonderful feeling. He’s lived in Schitt’s Creek for less than a year, but he’s made a space for himself in this community and the community has embraced him in turn.

Afterwards, they head to the small lounge with mugs of tea. Seeing the tree that he and David decorated with ornaments from Patrick’s childhood bolsters him a little.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, because this week has been… a lot for me and there’re some things I should probably say.”

His parents, together on the sofa while he’s in an armchair, both nod, though he can see signs of concern in the line of his father’s mouth and the shine of his mother’s mouth.

“You can talk to us about anything, Patrick.” His mother’s voice is warm and comforting, but there’s still a contrary part of Patrick that imagines replying _Oh, so I can tell you how desperate I am to suck a dick?_

He pushes that down. It’s reflexive at the point, and not really the point. Hell, maybe they’d be supportive even if he did say that, but he really doesn’t actually want to discuss sex with his parents. It’s not that.

“So, first of all… I’m gay.” He’s only said it once before out loud, to David the day before, and it feels nearly as much of a rush to say it here, even with his parents looking a bit confused. “I mean, I know you sort of knew that, but I wanted to say the words. And for you to know that I’m not bisexual or pansexual, or something else.”

“Thank you for sharing that with us.” Clint’s words sound polished and Patrick wonders if they’ve been doing research. It warms his heart, to think that his parents, even while away from home, have been trying to work out how best to react to this. If they have, he’s glad he’s giving them a chance to show him.

“And I think… I think I messed up how I told you about this to begin with. Because I asked you to accept it, I made it all about this one relationship and—” Patrick tilts his head back to try and stop tears from falling “—and I don’t want you to _accept_ that I’m with David. I want you to embrace that I’m—that I’m a gay man. Whether I’m in a relationship or not.” He curses himself for tripping over his words, but at least he’s managed to get this far.

Marcy crosses the room and pulls him into a hug. “Oh Patrick, of course. We are so _proud_ of you, all of you.”

He can’t help but laugh at her using that word, the word David had said that made him feel a yearning so strong he felt ridiculous for it. He holds his mother close and allows himself to take comfort in the familiar feel of her holding him tight.

When they break apart, he gestures her back to the couch. “There’s, um, something I’m less proud of that I want to tell you as well.” It’s silly, because now that he’s here, he’s imagining the version of this day where he came out to them without any artifice on Sunday and now he could giddily tell his parents that his crush likes him back. Instead, he’s forcing himself to admit to deceiving them for barely any reason. It would be easy to up the lie, but he's so tired of hiding parts of himself out of fear.

“Whatever you need to tell us, we’re here for you.” Clint sounds so serious, it makes it feel even more ridiculous somehow.

“Right, so.” Patrick takes a deep breath. “I was lying when I told you I had a boyfriend. I was really nervous about coming out and I thought it would be easier if I could do it by introducing you to a partner and David offered to help.” Part of him wants to explain that they came up with the idea while high, but probably best he leave that part unsaid.

Marcy blinks, her expression alarmed and hurt. “But—but Jocelyn said she’d known about you for months and David’s parents were telling us how happy they were to see you two together and—”

“Oh, no, no.” Patrick cuts her off, because clearly she’s imagining the whole town being in on this lie and that’s actually a horrible idea. God, why did he ever think this was a good plan? “They don’t know about it being a lie. We, um, thought it would be more believable if the people in town also thought we were together?”

Clint takes in a deep breath through his teeth. “That’s quite the complex scheme you put in place. Were you really that worried about what we’d think?”

Patrick scrubs his hand over his face, trying to figure out how to reply. “It wasn’t… it really wasn’t difficult to make people think we were together. Apparently some people had been under that impression for a long time?” Patrick looks over at the tree so he doesn’t see their faces. “And I guess I didn’t want to tell you but then have to worry that it was only okay in theory.”

“Oh, Patrick.”

He can barely stand the emotion in his mother’s voice and stubbornly keeps his gaze turned away. “There’s a big difference between the idea of me maybe one day bringing a man home and actually _seeing_ me with one.”

“I can’t tell you that it might not have gone differently in that case, but the most important thing to us really is your happiness. It’s been such a gift to see you so happy this week—or, I thought you were.” Marcy’s voice wavers and Patrick finally turns to look at his parents. They both look surprised, but his mother looks absolutely devastated. “Are you happy, Patrick?”

He wipes his eyes and nods forcefully. “I am _so_ happy living here, having the store, and my friends, and… David. David makes me really happy.” He smiles, trying to get across how good this is, even while his eyes are still damp with tears. “He—David kissed me last night. For real, I mean. Um, the song I sang to him—it doesn’t matter, but… I’m pretty sure we’re going to do this.”

“Well, thank God for that.” Clint’s smiling the way he did when he heard Patrick made the Varsity baseball team. “That man lights you up like I’ve never seen, I worried we were about to hear you pretend you don’t even like him that way.”

Patrick can’t help but let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, okay. I… I really like him.”

“I can tell he really likes you, too.” Marcy’s expression is so tender it’s almost hard to look at. “I mean, he let his whole family think you two were dating just to help you out.”

Patrick shakes his head. Honestly, the whole thing seems so farcical, so out of character for him now that he’s on this side of it. He’s glad it seems to have worked out, but it’s going to take some time to really untangle having done this. “I know it’s a lot to ask after everything, but would you be okay with not telling them? David’s relationship with his family is…” It’s hard to think of a way to put this that doesn’t sound like he’s criticising them.

“I can tell, from some of the stories Johnny and Moira have told us that their family is very different from ours, but they clearly love each other very much. Don’t worry, that’s for David to share with them if he decides to.”

Patrick chest goes tight hearing how much his dad seems to really understand the Rose family, who can so easily be dismissed as out-of-touch, or dramatic. “Thank you.” He takes a moment to settle himself before what he needs to say next. “I really do want to apologise for it. I’m sure it must hurt to have me to lie to you; I’m not really sure I can explain it in a way that will ever make complete sense.”

His parents clasp their hands together as they look at him and watching the way they supplement each other’s strength he can’t help but think _That’s what I want with David._ It’s a shock to think he’d never thought that way with Rachel, hadn’t even realised it was missing.

“I can admit that yes, I am hurt that you felt like you had to do this, but there’s no way the blame is all on you. I’ve been thinking a lot this week about what we did and didn’t do when you were growing up.” Clint looks at Marcy, his mouth tilted sadly. “We made a lot of assumptions that can’t have helped you.”

Patrick nods; he can’t deny it. It’s hard not to feel a bubble of that frustrated anger he’s been carrying around when he thinks of how his whole life he never felt like the door was open to him to be anything other than what he expected. “I keep remembering when I was a kid and Uncle Joe got married.”

His parents nod, his mother’s eyes going misty. “You looked so cute in that tiny ring-bearer suit.”

Patrick takes a deep breath so he doesn’t lash out. They’ve been so kind in response to his lies, he can say this without anger. “Yeah, well, I remember you thought that.” He looks back at the tree, once again can’t meet their eyes. “You said I looked like a little groom and one day some woman would be very lucky to marry someone so handsome.”

The room is quiet enough he can hear the soft gasp that he’s sure is his mother’s, the sound of a hand on fabric that is most like his father stroking her back in comfort. Even with his lingering frustration, he hates that he said something that would hurt her. Again.

“I’m so sorry, Patrick.” Marcy’s voice is more forceful than he expected; she clearly feels this strongly and Patrick finds himself able to look at his parents again.

“Me too, I never even thought how we could be hurting you in so many ways.”  
His father saying this feels like the last of the weights holding Patrick down has finally been removed.

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick’s parents don’t try to come with him to the store that afternoon, which he’s grateful for. He’d have liked to come into an empty store so he could greet David the way he wants and have a chance to really _talk_ to him, but intellectually know it’s a good thing they have customers.

The rest of the week, Patrick would likely have found a way to get close to David regardless, but now that the time limit on that closeness has hopefully been removed, that edge of anxious desperation has settled down. He very much wants to touch David, be close to him, kiss him, any moment he can, but he can resist it better. They still catch each other’s eyes for a moment and it’s like physical sparks should shoot between them when they do.

Stevie is working the till while David works the floor; Patrick gets his outerwear off and goes to take over from her, but she shakes her head. “Do the selling stuff; it’s been busy and I’d rather help with this than all the—” she wrinkles her nose “—convincing people.”

Patrick and David find ways to be in each other’s space as they work and it has a hint of a different vibe now. There’s no worry that he’s pushing it too far or taking advantage of David’s generosity when Patrick slides a hand across his back. David smirks at Patrick when he does, a look he’s only seen limited versions of before. The real thing makes a fire burn low in Patrick’s belly and he has to take a deep breath before he picks up the candle he was reaching for.

It’s busy until closing and, while frustrating, it’s good to be in the rhythm of their store. Patrick’s very grateful to Stevie for saying and helping—they seriously need to do something to thank her for all she’s done—as apparently a lot of people from the Greater Elm region are last-minute present buyers.

When David finally flips the sign and leans back against the locked door he looks ready to collapse right then and there. Stevie heads into the area behind the check out and returns with a case of wine.

“I thought you said we ran out of wine an hour ago!” David’s voice raises in pitch and he stands up straighter; Patrick’s pretty sure David just got a burst of energy from his annoyance and it makes his heart squeeze with all the feelings he has for this man.

“You did, because this is mine.” Stevie drops the case on the checkout counter. “As a payment for all the work I did here this week.”

David sniffs, but doesn’t tell her no. Patrick just laughs and goes to put the case through the till, paying for it himself. “Thank you very much, Stevie. I really appreciate you being here for me.”

Stevie winces and shakes her head. “Ew, no, I just couldn’t think of a good excuse to get out of it.”

Patrick smiles at her warmly, knowing that is the most annoying response possible. “Of course.”

“Ugh, can you stop him?” Stevie shoots David a dramatic gesture towards Patrick.

“Nope.” David looks at Patrick and sighs, with the most openly _fond_ look that Patrick has even seen on his face. He’s obviously at least partially doing it to fuck with Stevie, but Patrick still feels captured by that expression, his insides too big for his body; how could anyone survive being looked at that way, or make themself turn away?

“Oh fuck, did it actually work?”

Both their heads snap towards Stevie, who is grinning like she pulled off the heist of the century.

“Pardon?” David straightens up to his full height imperiously, as if he could ever intimidate Stevie.

“You guys have spent fucking _months_ refusing to acknowledge how into each other you are and I was getting sick of it, so I decided to try rom com style.” Stevie shrugs, as though that’s a totally reasonable thing for an adult who lives in the real world to say.

Patrick tries to hold back his laughter, but it’s difficult when the situation is so ridiculous. “Try it rom com style?”

She rolls her eyes. “I mean, you kind of dropped the whole ‘fake dating’ concept in my lap for me to suggest? I figured it would help you come out, and if I no longer needed to live with your fucking pining by the end of it, even better.”

Patrick _does_ laugh at that, because—while it is ridiculous—it’s also almost sweet.

David’s still squinting suspiciously at Stevie. “And who says we’re not pining anymore I mean—not that _I_ was pining.”

“Of course not.” Patrick can’t help himself from butting in, keeping his tone dry, which gets him David’s squinting glare directed at him. Patrick adores that expression so very much.

Stevie just shakes her head. “Don’t pretend the vibe hasn’t changed! Now, I’m taking this wine and leaving you to finally bang it out or whatever, have fun!” She picks up the case and walks toward the door, just staring until David grumbles and opens it for her, locking back up behind her.

“Sorry about her.”

Patrick gets out from behind the counter to finally get closer to David, pulling him into a hug. “You aren’t her keeper.”

David snorts. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” His tone is sardonic, but he pulls Patrick close, his arms going around Patrick’s shoulders like they belong there.

Patrick can’t resist dropping a small kiss on David’s neck. “Is that really what you want to talk about?”

David pulls his head back slightly so their eyes can meet. “No, it isn’t.”

This kiss starts out slow and wet, David taking his time to drag his tongue along Patrick’s gasping mouth, then scraping his lower lip with his teeth as they close the last bit of distance between their lips. Patrick is entirely certain he has never experienced this sort of lazy sensuality before and he wants to luxuriate in it nearly as much as he wants to tear all their clothes off and go at it right here on the shop floor. Which is a lot.

David is the one to break the kiss and step back. “We should talk, though.” He sounds incredibly reluctant, but his hands are still over Patrick’s shoulders, which helps with resisting the urge to panic.

“We should.” Patrick sighs and looks around the store. “We should also actually go through closing.”

David pouts dramatically. “But it’s _Christmas!_ ”

Patrick can’t help but lean in to taste those pouting lips for a moment. “It’s Christmas _Eve,_ which means next time we’re open will be Boxing Day, which we need to be ready for.”

“Ugh, you and your logic. Don’t know why I even _want_ to date you.” The moment the words leave his mouth David closes it, eyes going wide like he can’t believe he said them. “I mean—”

Patrick interrupts him with another kiss, this one a bit more forceful. “I don’t know why either, but I’m awfully glad you do.”

David shakes his head at Patrick, but his dimple is out in full force. “Ugh, okay. I’ll start tidying up and you handle the till?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Despite the store being in more disarray than usual from the influx of customers, they manage to get it sorted out and restocked in good time. There are some gaps in their inventory, where they didn’t quite judge their stock levels right, but they’ve learned for next year.

After, David pulls Patrick close again. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” There’s a hint of suggestion to his words, but a cautious one.

Patrick very much likes the idea of them getting some time alone, but also… “Are you going to do anything with your family for the first night of Hanukkah?”

David blinks and tucks a smile into the corner of his mouth. “Well, we didn’t do anything last year, though that was really a depressing winter all around, so I hadn’t really considered it. Me and Alexis haven’t really celebrated it with our parents in years, honestly. I’m not even sure I know if we have any of our menorahs. We had a new one each year, but... Actually we might?”

Patrick nods. “I just wasn’t sure if it’s something you guys would normally do.”

David’s eyes crinkle like that’s a funny thing to say. “I don’t really know that what we normally do is really relevant, but… I guess it would kind of be nice to do _something._ Do you have plans with your parents?”

Patrick blushes. “They, uh, actually wanted to give me the evening to spend with you, once I explained everything? So I could pick you up from the motel later, if you wanted. Ray’s going straight from the tree farm to catch a plane to Winnipeg, so it would just be us.” He really hopes he’s not blushing as much as he feels like he is. He’s not completely sure what he’s ready for with David, but he’s been wanting him for a long time and weeks of kisses have only increased that desire.

David makes a pleased noise and shimmies his shoulders a little. “Well, that sounds _very_ nice, but you could… join us if you want? Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure we do have my grandmother’s old menorah and a box of candles, I remember finding it when we were looking for my mother’s naked photographs. If you’re there I won’t be stuck with them for long.”

Patrick isn’t sure he wants to ask for more details of _that_ and recognises it for the deflection it is; he feels touched to have been invited into this. “I’d love to. And when you’re there… maybe you could pack an overnight bag? If you wanted.”

David smiles one to those rare smiles where he doesn’t try to hide it at all and Patrick knows that he’d do anything for this man. The thought is exhilarating. “Oh? Well, I’ve already told you I’m always happy for a chance to sleep in a full size bed.” His smile slides into a smirk that sends sparks through Patrick’s body.

“Yes, I figured that would be the appeal.”

David wriggles a little and then gets out his phone. “Okay, well let’s see if my parents are even around, who knows what else they could be up to.”

❄️❄️❄️

It turns out all four of their parents are in Johnny and Moira’s room at the motel. Now that things are so much clearer between them, Patrick can really relish how exciting it is how well they get along, instead of the prickly frustration and dread of it not being real. Alexis is in her and David’s room and fills them in on the parents’ attempts and failures to find a card game they all knew the same rules for.

Patrick barely gets out more than a Happy Hanukkah to David’s parents before David’s bickering with them about them never using coasters on the little dining table unless he's there. Patrick shakes his head and shares a look with his parents that would have left him defensive just the day before.

He goes to stand next to his parents while they wait for the argument to end.

“They’re quite something, this family.” Clint sounds impressed, the tone he uses when talking about people who survive doing challenging but illogical things, like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel.

Patrick smiles. “They really are. You two seem to be getting on well with Mr and Mrs Rose?” He’s been surprised by how often he’s found them together this week.

Marcy smiles, a little bit of mischief in it. “Well, how else are we going to find out about what you’ve been up to here!”

They all laugh, so much lighter than it would have been before they talked. The idea that David’s parents have been paying that much attention is… unexpected. “And what have I been up to?”

“Well, swooping in to make David’s business idea a success for one thing.”

Patrick rolls his eyes at his dad. “He’d have managed that himself, I just helped.”

“Sure, but that’s still something. And I heard you tutored Alexis for her economics course?”

“Mom, that was—it was barely tutoring, I just showed her how to approach the subject and we worked through some problems together.”

His parents laugh like they always have when he’s being stubborn. “Well, there were lots of stories, but most of them boil down to the same thing. They’re really happy to have you in their lives and the life of their son.”

Patrick can feel himself blushing, so he just shakes his head and refocuses on the Roses, who seem to have burned out on their bickering slightly.

David glances over, a gentle smirk on his face that makes Patrick’s heart skip and beat. He rolls his eyes at his Dad and then widens them pleadingly, so Patrick goes right to him.

“Mr Rose, David actually had an idea.” He hopes he’s not overstepping, but David smiles softly, suggesting that was exactly what he was after.

“Yeah, Dad, I was wondering if we still have your mom’s menorah? I feel like I saw it—” David contains his facial reaction to when he saw it to the most adorable little wrinkle of his nose “—uh, before, and I thought, as it’s the first night of Hanukkah…?” He trails off, an almost nervous look on his face to be suggesting it.

“David!” Johnny’s eyes go wide and wet immediately, a deep smile crossing his face. “Yes, yes, I know just where it is.”

He finds the menorah and candles quickly enough that Patrick can’t help but wonder if maybe he’d been considering getting them out himself and decided against it.

Alexis has been hovering at the doorway between rooms and claps when she sees it. “Oh yay, I haven’t done this in _years!_ ”

The four Roses gathered together to light the first candle are lovely to watch. Alexis and David snipe at Johnny for taking too long with the prayers, but Patrick thinks he spots a bit of emotion under it all.

Afterwards, Johnny suggests they all have dinner together, but David manages to get them out of it. Alexis seems a bit annoyed to be abandoned with the ‘old people’, but brightens at the idea of having the room to herself for the night.

“Oh wow, David! A night without having to listen to you snoring is the best present you’ve gotten me since you tried frosted tips!”

David puts on a poisonous smile. “That’s so nice; now I don’t need to give you the lump of coal I’d picked out for you!”

❄️❄️❄️

Patrick can barely believe they've made it, but he and David are at Ray's house and they’re _alone_. For real. And not in their place of business. It takes a great deal of restraint on Patrick’s part not to slam David up against the door the moment it shuts, but they said they were going to talk.

Patrick puts a frozen lasagne in the oven and turns the kettle on; he offers David a coffee, but is surprised by him asking for tea, instead. Once they’re both seated with their mugs, they sit silently for a strange, awkward minute, before Patrick is tired of waiting. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

David looks into his mug like he’s trying to read the future, even though the leaves were all contained in a tea bag that is now in the compost bin. “I wanted to make sure we were on the same page about what this relationship is.”

There’s a large part of Patrick that hears those words and goes into panic mode, but he takes a deep breath and keeps the memory of last night in his head. “I want us to be in a relationship. For real. If you’d also like that.”

David’s shoulders drop and he bites his lip around a grin that Patrick can see trying to escape. “Yes! I mean—yeah, yes. That would be… very nice.”

“Very nice, huh?” Patrick can never resist needling David, he responds so beautifully every time; this time it’s a huff of breath and a suspicious squint even as his teeth lose their fight against his smile and release it.

“I may have been over-selling it.”

Patrick reaches forward and grabs David’s hand, running his thumb over the silver rings. “Seriously, though. You have to know I’m crazy about you.”

David tilts his head. “How would I know that?”

Patrick laughs, before he realises David’s not joking. “David. I spend as much time as possible with you, I got myself involved in your store with hardly a second thought, and I’ve spent the last few weeks getting my hands on you any chance I had. Did you really think I’m that good an actor?”

“I mean, I figured you wanted to _fuck_ me, sure.” David’s expression is unreadable, which is a rare enough occurrence that Patrick feels unsettled by it. David saying those words would probably be a turn on in another situation, but the way he said them…

“David, I do want you, um, like that, but that is just the tip of the iceberg for what I want with you. And if you aren’t interested in _that_ then I still want to be with you.” Patrick puts everything he can into making clear how much he means this. “I’m sorry if the way I’ve been recently gave you another impression and I’m sorry if I, uh, took advantage of the way you’ve been helping me.”

David waves his hand insistently, as though that can rid the air of the words. “If you were taking advantage of that it was no more than I was; I said we should _make out_ in order to have Ray walk in on us!”

Patrick laughs. Seeing their behaviour from this side it all seems a little… transparent. “Well, okay then. You may have a point. But I’m serious about the rest of it. I’d like us to go on a proper date soon, but today all the restaurants in the area except Cafe Tropical are booked up and I knew our parents would be there.”

“You tried to book us dinner?” David tone suggests this is a much bigger deal than it should be.

“I want to…” This feels so stupid to say, but maybe David needs to hear it. “I want to treat you right.”

David shifts a little, looks like he wants to preen at those words and is holding back. He’s so perfect. “I could be amenable to that.” He glances into his mug for a moment, before meeting Patrick’s eyes. “I do want to be with you _like that—_ ” he smirks, even as he keeps the eye contact “—but I… I can’t have that be all this is. Which, okay, I’m sure you know I’ve done that plenty of times before; it’s practically all I know _how_ to do, but…”

“I can’t imagine not wanting everything with you, David. This is definitely way too early to be saying this but… I’m all in. Whatever you want, you can have it.”

David blinks and for a moment Patrick feels like he’s blown it already, gone way too far, but then David’s face transforms into something familiar and teasing. “Whatever I want, huh?”

Patrick knows that look. “As long as it doesn’t relate to our business responsibilities, as it is important to have boundaries when starting a relationship with a colleague.”

David pouts dramatically, but his eyes sparkle and Patrick knows he got him. “Well, if I still have to do inventory I guess all I want is… you.” He rolls his eyes at himself. “There I go, quoting that song again.”

“It is one of the most iconic songs of the twentieth century, written and performed by musical royalty.” Patrick has heard David say this more than once and is happy to repeat it back word for word.

“You don’t have to keep flattering me so hard, Patrick. I already said yes.” David looks pleased though, to know that he’s been listened to. Patrick’s pretty sure he’s going to try to keep putting that look on his face as long as he can.

“I think you might need to get used to flattery, I’ve got months of compliments I’ve been holding back.”

David’s skin is dark enough to hide a blush, but Patrick’s pretty sure he sees a hint of one. “Such as?” He pitches his voice low and seductive and something Patrick wants to hear more of, but maybe not right now.

“When your eyes catch the light they’re more beautiful than any precious gem I’ve ever seen.” Patrick’s thought this a dozen times and tried to push it down.

“Oh.”

The timer goes at that moment and Patrick busies himself getting the lasagne out and throwing together a quick salad while it cools enough to be eaten. He’s happy to let David watch him, to be able to do this for him. It doesn’t take long for it to be ready, and there’s something magical about sitting catty-corner in Ray’s out-of-date kitchen eating frozen lasagne together that feels even better than getting a meal out at the nice restaurant in Elmdale. Though, Patrick’s looking forward to that, too.

❄️❄️❄️

After the meal, they bicker over what movie to watch and end up with _Hook_ “because at least it has a Julia in it”. Cuddling on the sofa without Ray watching and fewer worries about overstepping boundaries is so much better than Patrick could have imagined.

He hasn’t seen the film in years and is surprised how well it holds up, and David seems to be getting into just as much. He’d forgotten that much of the plot surrounds a son feeling neglected in favour of his father’s work, though, and at a few of those scenes David burrows in closer. Patrick doesn’t say anything about it, just holds him tight.

Once the film is over, David turns to Patrick and joins their mouths in a lush kiss. It’s slow and deep, making Patrick gasp so David can slide his tongue into his mouth. Patrick loves the lazy sensuality of it, but he can’t hold himself back any longer from taking it further, moving and shifting them on instinct so that he’s laid out on his back under David, legs spread with David between them.

It might be overwhelming, if he let himself think about it, but instead he just brings David’s mouth to his and pours everything into kissing him. It’s so much more intense than the previous couple of make outs, knowing they won’t be interrupted and not dulled by alcohol. Patrick feels wild with it, buzzing on a high made of _David-David-David._

Patrick whines when David’s mouth breaks away from his, but then he gets to feel stubble scrape along his skin before David sucks just under his jaw. He _moans,_ the sort of noise he thought he didn’t make because he’s never been _this_ into something before.

David’s carefully holding his body up, but Patrick doesn’t want that, wants to be pressed down by him. He hooks his legs around David’s hips to pull him closer, tugging on his torso at the same time until finally he gives in and drops down. Patrick’s never been with someone so much bigger than him, who could press him down with their weight so completely, and he fucking _loves_ it.

“David, fuck, you feel so _good._ ” He regrets groaning that out for a moment when it makes David pull away, but the look in his eyes is hotter than anything Patrick has ever seen.

“You said ‘fuck.’” David’s gaze pins Patrick more efficiently than the press of his body, sending shocks of lust through him.

“Yes?” Patrick avoids swearing, sure, but he must have said that in front of David before. “I say ‘fuck.’ I said it in a text last week!” He remembers because David had called him out on it then, as well.

David’s hips jolt, just from that, and suddenly all of Patrick’s awareness is between his legs, because now he realises that David’s _hard._ David’s hard and so is Patrick and their cocks are pressed together and Patrick could come in an instant just from that knowledge if he doesn’t stop himself.

“Yes, and seeing you _write it down_ was a shock! The most I’ve heard is ‘shit’, if you’re really high or overwhelmed.” David’s voice is level, slightly snippy, like this is a normal conversation, but his dark eyes tell a different story.

Patrick smirks, pushing down his lust enough to fall into teasing. “Oh, I’m sorry, does the word ‘fuck’ offend you? Should I be avoiding it, on account of your delicate disposition?”

David glares the way he does when he’s pretending not to be amused, clenching the hand he has wrapped around Patrick’s shoulder. “Mm, you know that I don’t believe in that sort of self-censorship. You can say whatever-the- _fuck_ you like.”

Patrick slides his hands down David’s side until he reaches the hem of his sweater and drags it up until his hands touch bare skin; David bites his lip at the feeling. “In that case, I think you should know—” Patrick leans forward to whisper into David’s ear “—I think you’re _fucking_ gorgeous.”

David makes a frustrated noise and grabs Patrick’s head, pulling him into a rough kiss. Patrick’s almost dizzy with how easily David moved him where he wanted him and kisses back just as fiercely.

David’s skin is overwhelmingly soft; just touching his lower back is arousing, makes Patrick wish their clothes could just be off— _right now_ —because he wants to feel that skin all over him, but he doesn’t want to stop making out to get there. He gets the fingertips of one hand under the waist of David’s jeans and David immediately bucks his hips, grinding against Patrick.

Fuck, Patrick has never been so turned on from making out before, didn’t know he could do this without parts of his brain cataloguing everything to make sure he’s doing it right. He enjoyed himself, generally, with the women he’s been with, but this is so much _more._

David goes back to Patrick’s neck, while sliding one hand down to wedge it between the sofa and Patrick’s ass and—oh _fuck—_ Patrick is suddenly so close to coming, just from this, and he can’t let that happen. “Stop.”

David stops immediately, snatching his hand away and pulling back as far as he can with the way Patrick’s wrapped around him. “Sorry, fuck!”

Patrick shakes his head, relaxing his hold so David can actually move away; much as he doesn’t want him to, it’s not helping the issue for them to be pressed so close together. “God, don’t be sorry, that was _incredible._ ”

“But you said to stop?” David has moved all the way back to sit on his knees, which means Patrick has an excellent view of the way his erection strains the white denim of his jeans. Patrick’s mouth actually _waters_ at the sight, holy fuck. “Patrick?”

He shakes his head and drags his gaze up to David, who is looking less concerned now, with just a hint of amusement peeking through. “I said to stop because if we didn’t I was going to come and I’d really rather we not be wearing clothes when that happens.”

David shimmies a little, like he enjoyed hearing that so much he couldn’t keep his reaction contained within him. “Well, that can be arranged.”

It’s difficult not to agree immediately and start tearing his clothes off, but Patrick makes himself take a moment. “Are you sure? I really don’t want you to think that’s all I want you for.”

David’s dimple sneaks onto his cheek; Patrick could watch that happen a thousand times and still find his heart pounding from it. “Well, you said some very sweet things earlier that made that clear. But, are _you_ sure? I know that this is new for you.”

In another situation, Patrick would probably need to wait, but now? When he’s had months of wanting David, followed by weeks of not-quite having him? “I am so sure, David.”

It is incredibly gratifying to see the shiver his voice sends through David’s body. “Well, much as I _love_ making out with that terrifying Ray ornament watching us, shall we take this upstairs?”

Patrick laughs, looking over at the tree; the ornament really is pointed right at them. “I can accept those terms.”

David gets off the sofa and Patrick follows, going to turn the lights off on the Christmas tree before they leave the room.

“That tree is probably the most hideous thing I have ever had a hand in.” David’s looking at it with thinly veiled disdain.

“What? I think it’s nice! You seemed to like it the other day.”

David rolls his eyes. “I mean, it’s incredible considering the options available, but I was mostly trying to be a good fake boyfriend, who doesn’t critique _all_ your aesthetic choices. Those rules don’t apply to real boyfriends.”

Patrick’s grin almost hurts it’s so big, especially seeing David’s eyes widen at his own words. “Oh, I guess I still have to learn the _real boyfriend_ rules.”

David opens his mouth like he has something to say and then closes it, shaking his head. “I guess you will.”

❄️❄️❄️

Being allowed to remove David’s sweater and undershirt is an experience like no other. Patrick is very aware of how important David's clothing is and to be allowed to see him without that is so much more intense than Patrick could have anticipated. He takes his time exploring this body he has spent so much time thinking about.

David has more chest hair than Patrick expected, dark swirls of it across his pecs and leading down towards his stomach. He babbles something about not having it groomed the way he used to and Patrick kisses him softly. “It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

Patrick plays with David’s nipples, loving the way David gasps as they harden to stiff points, relishing the feel of this chest, with soft hair and skin over hard muscle. He leans down to lick across one, feeling the groan it elicits as much as he hears it, pressing close so he can feel that hair against his cheek.

He takes his time with his mouth that way, while David’s hands don’t seem to know where to land—holding Patrick’s biceps, then his face, then petting across his back and shoulders. When Patrick finally moves back up to kiss David’s mouth, he is pulled fiercely in, David licking into his mouth and sliding a hand down his back.

“Can I grab your ass?” David breaks away to ask.

Patrick groans at the question, can’t help the way it makes his body surge. “Yes, but we should get our pants off.”

David grumbles, sliding his hand down a bit further, a too-gentle stroke over Patrick’s ass that lights him up more than he knew it could, before shifting back. They make quick work of their pants and the sight of those long, strong legs—covered in more dark hair—that Patrick has spent so much time imagining undoes him almost as much as seeing the way David’s erection is tenting his dark boxer-briefs.

“ _David._ ” Patrick hopes that word even begins to get across the strength of his feeling here, but he doubts it does. “How are you real?”

David shakes his head and rolls his eyes, pulling Patrick close again. “You’re ridiculous.”

Patrick grabs David’s neck and kisses him fiercely, nipping at his mouth before sliding his tongue inside, hoping to show with his body what David won’t believe in words.

Finally, David grips Patrick’s ass properly, with no interruptions, and pulls their hips close together. Between David’s big hands grabbing Patrick, their erections pressed against each other with so little between them, and _so much_ skin contact, Patrick’s completely loses himself to sensation.

They kiss like that for a while longer, before Patrick makes himself pause his exploration of David’s collarbone so he can speak. “I want you on the bed, under me, naked.”

David gasps, digging his fingers in tighter against Patrick’s ass, sending sparks through him even before it grinds their hips together. “Holy _fuck,_ Patrick.”

Patrick gets one last bite at David’s collarbone and steps back. “That okay?”

David nods enthusiastically, but when his thumb is hooked into his underwear he pauses. “You too, right?”

Patrick takes a deep breath and then quickly removes his own boxer-briefs, looking at David in challenge. David grins and drops his own; Patrick has to lock his knees against the urge to drop to his knees that floods through him at the sight of David’s hard cock. He’s pretty sure he makes an embarrassing noise at how much he _wants_ it, but they should get horizontal first.

David’s grinning when Patrick finally looks back up at his face. “Like what you see, huh?”

Patrick growls and grabs David, practically throwing him onto the bed. “You have _no idea._ ”

David’s pupils are wide and he’s breathing heavily, staring at Patrick like he’s a revelation. “You’re so fucking hot Patrick, get over here.”

They moved into place; David with his head on the pillow, Patrick straddling him with their bodies pressed close together, kissing like their lives depend on it. David’s hands are back on Patrick’s ass, groping and digging his nails in, sometimes sliding down to touch his thighs before they get back in place.

“You really like my ass, don’t you?” Patrick asks when they part to breath, watching David’s gorgeous sex-flushed face.

David bites his lip before nodding, his eyes darting to the side. “Yeah, I—it’s really… nice.”

Patrick can help but laugh a little at how careful David is obviously being. “You don’t need to hold back, you know. You can talk to me.”

“Fuck, okay, just—tell me if I go to far? I tend to get—” David winces “—chatty during sex and I know it can be too much.”

Patrick slides a hand to cup David’s face as he kisses him gently. “I can’t imagine you ever being too much for me, David. I’ll tell you if you are, but I don’t see it happening.” He tries to let his face convey all the lust he’s feeling, how desperately into this he is. “Now tell me how fucking much you like my ass.”

David groans and bucks his hips, sliding his cock against Patrick’s in the most delicious friction. “You have the most fucking spectacular ass, Patrick; sometimes this is all I can think about, getting my hands on it, getting to fucking touch you like this.”

It’s so hot to be talked about this way; he’s had compliments on his ass, but always kind of jokingly, it’s never been treated as such a sexual part of his body by any of the women he’s been with. Patrick whines and ducks his head down to nibble at David’s ear lobe. “What else do you want to do with it?” His voice is low and gruff; he hopes he sounds as certain as he feels about wanting to hear this.

“Oh fuck.” David groans, one hand gripping tight as the other glides over the cleft too gently. “I want anything you'll let me have; want to eat you out and finger you open and fuck you for _hours_. Want to spend a day just fucking buried in you so even after I’m done you feel it every time you fucking _move._ ”

It’s so hot, these things Patrick hasn’t spent much time imagining but now is desperately excited to get to. In this moment, however, he’s extremely fucking hard, but the friction between their bodies is too dry and rough. He leans over to reach into the drawer of his bedside dresser and grab a bottle of lube.

David’s eyes widen when he sees it. “I don’t—I didn’t mean now, I think we should maybe wait for—”

Patrick moves back and kisses him to cut him off. “I don’t want you to fuck me.” It’s a moment before he realises quite what he said and he sits up on David’s body. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I want you to fuck me _eventually,_ but I was thinking we need the lube for—” Patrick immediately regrets the hand gesture he makes, but David’s smiling, so it could be worse.

“Ah, of course.” David finally removes his hands from Patrick’s ass and takes the bottle, pouring a generous amount into his hand. Instead of immediately getting it on one of their dicks like Patrick was expecting, he spreads it over his lower belly. At Patrick’s questioning look, his mouth tips up at the corner. “I want you to get off rubbing against on me, our cocks sliding together between our bodies. You good with that?”

Patrick can’t keep in a pleading noise; the idea of that, rutting against the hardness of David’s dick and the gorgeous soft skin and hair of his torso, isn’t something he knew could be this hot. “Yes, please. Holy shit, how am I going to survive how sexy you are?”

David just laughs and gets more lube, which he uses to quickly coat his own cock; even that brief moment of watching him touch himself makes Patrick’s dick twitch. He definitely wants to see more of that some day. The thought is nearly chased out of his mind when David spreads lube on _Patrick’s_ cock. The slow slide of David’s big hand is almost enough to make him come immediately, but he manages to hold out. David’s expression says he knows _exactly_ the effect he’s having.

As soon as David removes his hand, Patrick dives back down to get close again. The slickness covering them makes it so much better, letting their cocks slide together hot and wet with their chests pressed close. He wants to kiss David but can’t manage any more than thrusting his hips and panting into his neck.

David’s groaning and they’re pressed so close Patrick can feel the way it vibrates his chest. His hands are on Patrick’s waist now—one still tacky from lube even though he’d wiped some away—but that’s not what Patrick’s wants.

“David, I’m so close can you—” He groans as David bends his leg up so he can thrust harder “—Fuck, David, can you touch my hole?”

The answering growl is almost enough to make Patrick come then and there, but he holds out—knows he needs to hold out just a bit longer because David’s hands are moving down. Patrick shifts his knees further out, opening himself to David, even as it makes it hard to keep thrusting, his rhythm stuttering and shallow.

David makes up for it though, sliding his cock firmly against Patrick even as he uses one hand to pull one ass cheek aside and the other to slide a finger down Patrick’s crack. “Come for me.” David's voice is rough as his finger tip finally slides against Patrick’s hole. It’s such a gentle touch, but it sparks through Patrick and sends him flying over the edge, coming in waves as he humps against David’s body.

He’s never come that hard in his life and he takes a few moments collapsed on David after he rides out the waves of pleasure. It’s the feeling of David’s cock still hard between them, even as David gently strokes his back and lets him recover, that forces Patrick to move. He pushes himself up to sit up on David’s thighs so he can see the mess he made.

David’s stomach and cock are covered in a mixture of come and lube; Patrick can barely look away from it. “You are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve seen in my life.”

It’s only when David laughs that Patrick looks up to his face and sees the pleased smirk and spark of mischief in his eyes. “Are you saying that to me or my dick?”

Patrick shrugs. “Both?”

That just makes David smile bigger, which gives Patrick the confidence to reach forward and run a fingertip up the length of David’s cock. “Can I jerk you off?”

David’s eyes immediately darken and his dick twitches against Patrick’s finger; he loves being able to see and feel David’s arousal in these clear, physical ways. “Please, I need—” David a deep breath “—I mean, if you want to do that I would enjoy it very much.”

Patrick’s body is loose from his orgasm, his whole being relaxed in a way he rarely is, which stops him from feeling nervous as he finally gets his hand wrapped around David. It’s not some magical moment, to finally have a cock other than his own in his hand, but it feels good. He likes the weight of it, the soft skin, the differences and similarities from stroking himself, but most of all he likes that it’s part of David.

He gets into a rhythm, gaze torn between watching the movement of his hand and taken in the reactions on David’s face. It’s all so _good._ “I’ve thought about doing this so many times, David. Thought about taking you in my hand and stroking you, being allowed to make you come.”

David groans, eyes hazy but directed right at Patrick. “Can you—tighter? It’s so good, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop until I’ve made you come for me.” Patrick’s voice is nakedly earnest, but he can’t worry about that when he’s tightening his hand on David’s cock. He reaches his other hand between David’s legs and cups his balls, stroking and tugging them to see the response.

David’s head drops back and he whines, one hand moving to his chest, moving like he’s not even meaning to. “It’s so good, yes, faster, fuck.”

Patrick moves the hand on David’s cock faster, trying to keep up in the tight grip and rhythm. “You’re so hot, David, touch your nipples for me, please. Want to see how you like it, want to see you come.”

David whines, a high, breathy sound as he starts pinching one nipple roughly and then gets his other hand on his chest so he can touch them both. “I’m gonna come, don’t stop—fuck, _Patrick_ —”

Patrick can _feel_ it as David comes, pulsing through his hand, keeps stroking through it as he watches ropes of come shoot over David’s chest and stomach. He slows his hand once it’s stopped pulsing, eventually stopping but not letting go.

David smiles more softly than Patrick has ever seen, making his heart skip a beat with how lucky he feels to be here. “Thank you.”

Patrick finally removes his hand, trying not to drip come onto the bed. “You are very welcome, David.”

David rolls his eyes, still smiling, and reaches for the tissue box on the bedside table. He hands one to Patrick, before starting to clean himself up. Once the worst of the mess is dealt with, Patrick shifts to lie on his side next to David, holding him close.

“I really liked that.” Patrick feels a little silly, whispering that shyly after what they just did, but he kind of enjoys being a little silly here.

David tilts his head and leans to drop a kiss on Patrick’s mouth. “Good.” He uses his free arm to tug Patrick even closer, lying half on top of him. “We should shower.”

Patrick laughs at the mismatch between his words and his actions. “Definitely.” He throws his leg over David’s body, now lying half on top of him.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.” David hugs Patrick close and neither of them make any moves to get up. They’ll get there, but this first.

❄️❄️❄️

Waking up on Christmas morning with David in his bed is pretty much the best thing Patrick has ever experienced. They’re not cuddling, but their sides are pressed into each other and it’s like a line of sparks all down his body. David grumbles sleepily when Patrick moves back to roll onto his side and _oh,_ new best thing ever.

When David had slept over last week, Patrick did his best to push down how right it felt, how much he wanted to stay and stare at David when he woke up. Being able to indulge in that now is like being set free.

David’s lying on his front, hair all rumpled and face mashed into the pillow; Patrick’s never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Are you watching me, you creep?” David’s voice is groggy and fond, enough to make Patrick give in and sling an arm over his back, hugging him close.

“Maybe. That a problem?” Patrick maybe shouldn’t feel this confident about their relationship so early, but it’s difficult to over-think how he’s acting when it just feels right.

David twists his head more so he can meet Patrick’s eyes. “I guess I’ll allow it.”

Patrick leans in for a kiss and David mumbles “morning breath” but he still kisses back. It would be nice to stay in this bubble all day, but it won’t be long until Patrick’s parents arrive to start helping him cook. Much as he would love to spend every minute until then exploring David’s body further, he has something else he wants to do.

He drops one last kiss on David’s mouth, before rolling away out of bed.

“Hey, where are you going?” David’s clearly still not fully awake and the forlorn tone makes Patrick nearly give up on his plan, until he spots the clock.

“I’m getting your Christmas present!” He really doesn’t want to do this in front of other people, in case it crashes and burns, so he needs to do it now.

David perks up immediately, rolling onto his back and landing on Patrick’s side of the bed. “I get a present?”

Patrick reaches into his closet for the gift bag that has been there far too long. “Of course you do!”

David’s smile is a little shy, like the idea of being given something is utterly foreign to him. “Oh, wow.” He frowns and moves back to his side, reaching for his bag. “I do actually have something for you, but it’s kind of dumb? It’s not a—a boyfriendy gift, or whatever.”

That David has brought Patrick a gift, but still wasn’t expecting to receive one himself, makes Patrick want to shower him with presents every day. His mind is already whirring with plans when he makes it over to the bed and sits cross-legged on top of the covers.

“I want to go first, because this is really dumb.” David holds out a small wrapped box and Patrick’s heart stutters at how nervous he looks.

“I don’t know why you think my gift to you will be any better, but okay.” Patrick takes the box and rattles it a little, hearing the thump of something moving inside. Normally, Patrick is one to just tear right into a gift, but David’s biting his lip impatiently and teasing him is second nature.

Very carefully, Patrick locates the seam of the wrapping and peels away the tape. It’s a small box, so it really doesn’t take long, but he still takes his time undoing the fold and then removing the other bits of tape. He’s doing well keeping a straight face until David lets out a huff and then he can’t help but crack a smile.

“Oh my god, you’re doing this on purpose aren’t you? You aren’t just _savouring the experience_ or whatever, you’re torturing me!”

Patrick schools his face to innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He can’t delay any longer though, so he finally opens the paper and can’t help laughing.

“You were complaining about it being difficult to turn the pages, and I saw a woman using these when I worked at Brebner’s, it’s stupid, I just—”

“David.” Patrick looks at the box of rubber finger protectors and then at his boyfriend— _boyfriend!_ —trying to show that he’s being sincere. “It’s not stupid, it’s very cute and thoughtful. I love that you brought me little finger condoms for all the paperwork you make me do.”

“I _make_ you do? I seem to recall that _you_ were the one who walked into my store with a plan to get yourself hired for all of that—” David flails he hands dramatically “—paperwork stuff!”

Patrick’s aches with how incredibly happy he is and can’t help but lean forward to kiss the exasperated look off David’s face. “It’s a wonderful gift. Thank you.”

David shrugs, but Patrick recognises the pleased look in his eye. “Does that mean I can have my present now?”

Patrick’s heart suddenly pounds with anxiety, even though he doesn’t need to worry about this suddenly revealing his feelings. That cat is very clearly out of the bag. “It’s not anything too special, really.”

David digs through the tissue paper and takes out the frame.

“See, it’s nothing, just the—”

“It’s the receipt from our first sale. This is _not_ nothing.” David’s expression is serious, in a way it rarely is, just a hint of a smile. “So thank you.”

“It’s—I was actually going to give you this on your birthday? But then I wimped out of making it so obviously a date, and then Stevie turned up so I figured that was the right choice.”

David’s eyebrows raise dramatically and his mouth twists to the side. “That was supposed to be a date?”

Patrick shrugs. “That was the intention, but I kind of failed the execution of the whole thing. I just… I thought you might like me that way, but I wasn’t sure and it was terrifying. I assumed you inviting Stevie was a signal that I should back off.”

David tilts his head to look at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. “That was nearly _six months_ ago, we are complete fucking idiots. I wanted it to be a date so badly that the idea it actually wasn’t was really embarrassing; I invited Stevie so I wouldn’t keep trying to pretend it was more than it was.”

That’s… going to take a while to process. “We’re really dumb.”

“Mmhm.” David looks down at the receipt. “This is extremely lovely, but what I’m hearing from this is that it is, in fact, basically a recycled birthday present.”

Patrick rolls his eyes and leans in for another kiss; David meets him in the middle and they’re both smiling into it so much it’s barely a kiss at all. It’s perfect.

After presents they just about have time for a _very_ memorable shower before Patrick’s parents turn up. They all have breakfast together and send David away while they cook Christmas dinner; he’ll return later with his family.

Patrick loves cooking this meal with his parents, loves that he got folded into this tradition when he was a kid and they all know their roles. Looking back at it now he can see that last Christmas he’d been so run down and anxious that he’d snapped at them the whole time. He hasn’t really spent a lot of time thinking back on the last year he spent with Rachel, because it’s a fog of guilt and stress.

He’s beginning to understand how much it had brought him down in ways he doesn't yet know the depths of. After the holidays are over, he needs to contact Rachel and clear the air with her. When she’d come to town he’d been definitive in telling her they wouldn’t get back together, but hadn’t been able to make himself say why. That had been when he’d promised himself he’d tell his parents the next time he saw them

Once the celery is prepped for the stuffing he steps back and grabs his mother, busy working on the cranberry sauce, pulling her into a hug. “I was kind of a jerk last Christmas, wasn’t I?”

Marcy’s face twists in sympathy, but she shrugs. “Well, I wouldn’t say _that,_ but Jenny’s kids were calling you Mr. Grinch behind your back after you told them off for playing too loud.”

Patrick’s laughing at that when his dad gets back from grabbing the potato peeler he’d brought from home from the car; he insists it’s the only one worth using. “It’s time for a family huddle and you didn’t invite me?” He comes right in and wraps Patrick and Marcy in his arms in the way he used to decades ago and suddenly Patrick’s crying on his mom’s shoulder. His parents just hold him, rubbing his back and making soothing noises. He hasn’t cried like this in a long time, deep sobs coming from his gut, but he thinks maybe he was due.

Just as he manages to calm down they’re interrupted by a timer going off, reminding them it’s time to baste the turkey. With one last squeeze, Patrick separates from his parents, wiping his face as he goes. “Sorry about that.”

Marcy rolls her eyes, turning to stir the sauce and check it hasn’t burned. “You don’t need to apologise, Patrick. Are you doing okay?”

Clint squeezes his shoulder. “If there’s anything more you need to talk about, you can.”

Patrick shakes his head. “I think that was more of a—a delayed reaction, I guess?” He grabs a tissue to try and clear his face. “It’s just… this year has been the worst and the best year of my life. I’m really glad I can share the part that’s best with you now.”

His dad hugs him again, but Patrick only allows it for a moment before excusing himself to go to the bathroom and wash his face. He’s snotty and gross, with puffy, bloodshot eyes, and their carefully planned meal prep schedule is now behind, but it was worth it. He hadn’t realised how much he’d stopped trusting his parents until he felt it again today.

He washes up and heads back to the kitchen, where his mom’s poured a glass of water for him, and gets back to work.

The Rose family—and Stevie who David had practically had to drag to get to come along—arrive only half an hour after he’d told them to, which is ten minutes earlier than Patrick expected. Ray’s place isn’t quite set up for this many people to eat, but Stevie brought along some extra chairs and they add a folding table from the basement to make it work.

Patrick thought he’d have to talk people into pulling the Christmas crackers, but everyone gets into it—though David loses to both Patrick and Alexis and complains about it. The paper crowns, however, are a sticking point for most of the Roses—apart from Alexis who claps and immediately puts on hers on.

Patrick had never really thinks of Johnny as vain, which is probably short-sighted considering the man wears designer suits every single day. Watching him look at the red paper crown in concern and run a hand over his hair without touching it makes him realise maybe he’s more like his son than Patrick thought.

David’s mother reads the joke from her cracker—“Why did Santa go to the doctor? Because of his bad ‘elf’!”—like it’s a Shakespearean monologue, which somehow makes the joke almost funny. That leads to all of them reading their jokes as dramatically as possible, with Moira giving critiques.

The meal itself is perfect, exactly what Patrick remembers from home, but with bonus devils on horseback for Stevie and brussel sprout salad for Alexis. Patrick’s spent the past few weeks trying to sneakily find out people’s favourite Christmas foods. When Stevie sees the bacon-wrapped blue cheese parcels she glares in the way that lets Patrick know he did a good job and she’s pissed at him for it.

After they finish the main course, followed by the wide range of desserts—including the rugelach David had mentioned as a favourite—they pack into the small living room and turn on the TV.

Stevie has a lot of fun teasing of David when she learns that he’d been involved in decorating the very off-brand tree. Patrick leans against the wall watching them bicker and wondering if it’s too early to break out the egg nog, considering they’re still an hour away from sun set, when Alexis comes and stands next to him.

“So you and David decided to try it for real, right? That’s so cute for you.”

Patrick blinks and turns to her; her smile is neutral, but there’s a hint of knowledge in her eyes that says he’d clearly underestimated her. “Yup.”

She nods; Patrick suspects that it’s not that she needed it confirmed, but that she’s pleased he didn’t try to keep up the lie. “Okay, good. He like, _really_ likes you, but the people he isn’t into normally aren’t nearly as nice as you are. I wasn’t sure if he’d let himself actually go for it.”

That… feels like a big responsibility, somehow. To be a _nice_ person who David wants to be with, to have Alexis trust him with that. “I’m very lucky he did.”

Alexis’ smile goes small and soft as she reaches forwards and taps his nose. “Boop!”

Patrick grins, knowing what an honour he’s received. They don’t say anything more, just stand together watching their families. It feels a bit like a bubble outside the madness, until Stevie decides to bring Alexis onto her side for whatever her argument with David has evolved into.

Patrick decides to get the eggnog, partially just to have a moment to himself. It’s been such an intense week and it’s hard to believe that he’s managed to make it here at the end of it. He’s getting the glasses onto a tray when David appears at the kitchen door, pausing with a smile at the entrance.

“Oh my god, is that _home-made_ eggnog?” David gestures to the punch bowl on the counter that Patrick just pulled out of the fridge.

“Sure is! It’s my grandma’s recipe, really packs a punch.” Patrick puts down the last glass and goes to pull David into his arms. “How’re you?”

David’s arms wrap around Patrick’s shoulders as his smile unfurls across his face. “I’m amazing.”

Patrick can’t help himself. “Yeah, you are.”

David rolls his eyes, but still leans in when Patrick moves to kiss him. It’s soft and gentle, filling Patrick’s chest with pounding emotion. A year ago, he couldn't have imagined feeling as happy and fulfilled as he does in this moment. Back then, he was only beginning to truly accept that he was neither of those things.

It’s an amazing gift, to be able to start a new life and know that he can keep his connection to his parents. It hadn’t felt possible to put the two together, but doing so has started to heal something in him.

He kinds of wants to say something about this; give David a heartfelt speech about what he’s learned, but he saves that for another time. Instead, he leans back and smiles earnestly. “So, now that we’re dating do you think you could finally change my name from Patrick (business guy) on your phone?”

The indignant look on David’s face as Patrick attempts to kiss him again is yet another perfect gift.


End file.
